Mark of the Angel
by Some1FoundMe
Summary: She was on the run when she met him. On the run from her past mistakes. On the run from her current ones. What she didn't know was that she was running straight into the arms of the man she was destined to spend the rest of her life with. Or so says the matching arrow-shaped scars that she and Oliver Queen share. Soulmates AU. No island.
1. Prologue

**Summary:** She was on the run when she met him. On the run from her past mistakes. On the run from her current ones. What she didn't know was that she was running straight into the arms of the man that she was destined to spend the rest of her life with. Or so says the matching arrow-shaped scars that she and Oliver Queen share. But there's more to her match than she knows and life is about to take a dangerous turn for one Felicity Smoak. Soulmates AU. No island. No vigilante.

 **Prologue**

 **Present Day**

The rumble of a motorcycle pulled her from a dead sleep.

For a long moment she lay frozen in the darkened room as she tried to decide if the sound existed outside of her dreams. It came again, that familiar purr that sent a shiver down her spine, and she sat up abruptly.

She had done as he'd instructed. She had disappeared, stayed off the grid, made herself scarce. But they'd found her anyway.

As the motorcycle drew closer, Felicity threw back the covers and scrambled from the bed.

The cabin that she'd claimed as her home for nearly ten months was one large, open room with only a narrow bathroom enclosed at the back corner. It was remote, inaccessible from any of the main roads, and almost twenty miles from the closest populated village. She had wanted to vanish and she thought she had.

The bare floor was jarringly cold beneath her feet as she raced across the room to the wardrobe that sat against the far wall. She flung open its doors, the hammering of her heart making her dizzy, and dug around inside.

Her fingers wrapped around the smooth wooden staff just as the cabin door burst open.

Mid-October in these mountains was quiet, cool, and darker than hell. Very little light filtered in through the dirty windows but her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and as he stepped into the room, she could make out just enough of his features to know that he was dangerous.

Bás vibrated in her hand, the power contained within the staff coming to life as fear poured out of her. The man looming in her doorway exuded an energy so strong that it permeated the air around her and it didn't take the flash of ocean blue eyes for recognition to set in. Her grip on Bás slackened and she stepped out of the shadows. Her heart pounded now for an entirely different reason as he turned in her direction. The staff fell from her numb fingers and clattered to the floor.

"Oliver."

She crossed the space between them without thinking and threw herself against him. Her arms looped around his neck and she pressed her face to his chest. He carried a scent that was distinctly him, hints of sandalwood and pine and something that had always reminded her of a warm fire. It flooded her senses. It roused in her feelings that she hadn't felt in close to a year. It made her forget her natural instinct to survive.

Large, calloused hands closed roughly around her upper arms. Her body jerked in response but she had no time to brace herself for the fall. He shoved her with enough force for her feet to momentarily leave the ground before her whole body slammed into the floor. The air left her lungs in a rush and she tried to fight the sudden vertigo that rocked her. She moved before he could, sliding away from him even as he lurched for her. He caught her by the ankle, his grip bruising, and Felicity bit her lip to keep from crying out. He flipped her over with ease, as if she were nothing more than a ragdoll, and straddled her chest. The weight of his much larger body pressed her into the hardwood at her back. One knee had her left arm pinned to the floor but her right remained free. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bás. Just out of reach.

Oliver's hands closed around her throat then and she felt panic surge within her. She bucked her hips, kicking her legs wildly, in a futile attempt to dislodge him. It was no use, she knew. He had almost a hundred pounds on her and for the first time in her life, she cursed her petite frame. She struggled in vain to reach for the staff she had dropped, knowing that the power contained within would be the only way to stop him. His eyes were cold, lifeless as he stared down at her.

With what little energy she had left, she called out for Bás. The staff trembled against the floor before skittering toward her. She closed her fingers around it once again and a faint glow emanated from it. Its aura grew brighter, the trembling suddenly stronger, and she lifted her arm quickly and jammed one end of it into the base of his skull.

 _I met him today. I knew it as soon as he looked at me. I have never seen a man so beautifully frightening. He is large, broad shouldered and solid muscle. Dark hair, the color of fresh coffee. Bright cerulean eyes, a shade I've never seen before. He looked at me with those eyes and everything I thought I knew fell away._

She sat with her back to the wardrobe, knees drawn up to her chest, and clutched the now-motionless staff in both hands. He lay a few feet from her, still unconscious from the blast of energy she'd hit him with, and she waited silently for him to wake.

She wasn't sure what was happening but the man who had attacked her was not the same man that she had known so many months ago. She didn't know what they'd done to him but he had looked at her as if she was a threat. As if she was the enemy.

A glimpse of black ink on the instep of her left foot caught her attention and she stared at the tattoo for a long moment.

"Who are you?"

Her head shot up as his gravel-filled voice reached her ears. He hadn't moved much beyond sitting up and Felicity took a moment to study him in the low lamplight.

He wore a familiar pair of blue jeans, the denim encasing his muscular thighs like a second skin, and a dark cotton t-shirt that bore the logo of a bar she had once frequented. His unruly black hair was even more tousled than normal and his bright eyes were hooded as he studied her in return. He made no move to come closer to her and she knew that Bás served as a deterrent.

"I'd rather not have to ask again."

She sighed, "My name is Felicity. Do you know who you are?"

He scoffed, "Of course. And you seem to know, as well."

"You're name is Oliver Queen."

He didn't react to the fact that she knew his name and Felicity continued to watch him warily. She had never been apprehensive with him, not even in the beginning. But this man didn't seem to know her. She had trusted him implicitly, once upon a time, but common sense was telling her that she had no reason to trust him now.

"How did you find me?" she questioned.

He didn't respond verbally. He simply made a motion with his right arm that allowed her to see a simple tattoo, identical to her own, etched into the smooth skin of his forearm. She shivered.

"Why did you come here?"

He shrugged and leaned back casually, arms out behind him, ankles crossed in front of him. He looked relaxed but she felt his calculated gaze as it swept over her. He made no comment about her state of undress, neither about the fact that her legs were bare beneath the hem of her t-shirt nor about the fact that he could – no doubt – see her underwear. She felt no need to hide. She wasn't worried about modesty.

"It was a mystery," he said finally, "The coordinates. Wasn't exactly sure what I'd find here but I was almost positive I'd find that."

He gestured to Bás but she didn't acknowledge the motion.

"How do you know my name?"

She debated, briefly, on how to answer. A lie was on the tip of her tongue but she hesitated before feeding it to him. He had always had a way of knowing when she was lying. Whether he would still be able to tell now that he couldn't recognize her, she couldn't be sure. She decided that the truth would be her best bet.

"Because I know you, Oliver."

He stared at her.

"What's your last name, Felicity?"

She hesitated but continued along the path she'd already decided on. She went with the truth.

"Queen."

His expression never changed. She had expected shock or, at least, surprise, at her revelation but she got neither from him. He simply continued to stare at her with those intense eyes that caused goose bumps to prickle along her exposed flesh.

"I'm going to take a shot in the dark here and say you are _not_ my kid sister."

She shook her head slowly. His gaze immediately traveled to her left hand where her ring should be but it wasn't there. It never had been. She'd never worn a ring on her finger and neither had he.

"You're just a kid," he muttered then, looking more than a little angry at himself, "You're what, twenty? Twenty-one? Christ."

Felicity couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her.

"I appreciate the compliment but, if it makes you feel better, I'm twenty-nine, Oliver. Not a kid."

He didn't seem particularly relieved by the knowledge that his wife wasn't just some snot-nosed brat.

Sitting up suddenly, he thrust his right hand in her direction and Bás immediately responded, flying from her grasp to his. She flinched at the way the staff lit up under his touch. It was, after all, his weapon.

"Knocked me out with my own _cosaint_. How'd you even manage that? It isn't supposed to respond to anyone but me, not unless –"

His eyes grew wide as he gazed at her then. The shock she had expected earlier was there now. He sucked in a deep lungful of air and she knew then that he'd figured it out. It didn't mean he remembered her, but he knew. He knew that she was his. He was hers. And the weapon in his hand was bound to protect them both.

 _The mark on me is small. A tiny arrow carved into the skin of my wrist. It looks like a scar, that's what I always thought that it was. But Oliver has one, too. His is just as small, dainty, and looks odd on his sun-darkened skin. It is on the small of his back, in one of the little dips on either side of his spine. When he showed it to me, I wanted nothing more than to touch my lips to it._

He was on his feet in front of her pacing. She had seen him like this before. Frustrated. Confused. Realizing that the entire world was out of his control.

He thrust his free hand into his hair and a soft growl came from somewhere low in his throat. She had heard that sound before, too, and she knew what it all meant. She remained motionless in her spot against the wardrobe. Bás was clutched tightly in Oliver's hand.

"You can't – we can't –"

Felicity continued to follow his movements across the room. He didn't know her. Didn't know that she loved him, that he loved her. Didn't know that for ten years, he had been the only constant in her life. He knew nothing of the bond that held them together. The lack of connection she felt for him in that moment cut her deeply.

"I am and we are. Oliver, please, stop pacing. You're making me dizzy."

He stopped abruptly and the look that he gave her was another that she was familiar with. She held out her hand and Bás came to her immediately. It was something that only the two of them could do. The staff would not respond to anyone else and responded to her for only one reason. One simple reason.

"You're her."

"And you're him. Seriously, please sit down. I feel like I'm going to be sick."

He huffed out a laugh.

"You're not the only one."

She knew that she flinched at his harsh remark and she was sure that he noticed. Neither of them addressed it.

"Why are you here? Hiding out all alone? How long have you been here?"

She shrugged, twirling Bás between her fingers. His eyes followed the action.

"You told me to come here. If anything happened to you, I was supposed to pack up and disappear."

He finally sat, joining her on the floor again, and she was thankful that they were at eyelevel once again. He was quiet for a long moment and when his warm fingers touched her foot, she started.

"Coordinates. You told me to come here. This place specifically. Made sure I'd never forget."

He sighed and as his thumb traced over the miniscule numbers, Felicity shivered and withdrew her foot from his grasp.

"What happened to me? Why did you think you had to leave?"

"You don't remember?"

He shook his head.

"You didn't come back. You always came back. And it felt wrong. You've always told me to trust my instincts and something inside of me was telling me to run. I knew I wasn't safe anymore."

He continued to study her and Felicity allowed it. There was no way to tell what would spark his memory but if being examined this way would draw something from the recesses of his mind, she would welcome it. Besides, if he was busy examining her, he couldn't protest the way that she was cataloging every inch of him.

He looked none the worse for wear. Ten months hadn't changed him, at least not outwardly. His memory had been altered – clearly – but there was no telling what else they'd done to him. She couldn't be sure how much he knew, about himself, his job, his world. For all she knew, Oliver's whole life had been twisted.

"Where have you been?"

He glanced past her, his eyes finding something else to focus on, and she waited for his response. He took his time in voicing an answer and Felicity wondered if he would answer truthfully. What reason would he have for lying to her?

"I woke up in my apartment four days ago with no memory of the last few months. Shit, the last year really. And what little I do remember is broken… fragmented."

She canted her head and watched his expression change.

"You tried to kill me last night."

Had it really been that long ago? The sun was coming up, early morning light streaming through the windows indicated that it was – in fact – a new day.

Oliver shrugged, "Instinct, I guess. I sure as hell wasn't expecting to find anyone here waiting for me. All I was looking for was that."

Bás thrummed in her grip. The staff had a life of its own most days.

"Guess it was a little shocking, finding your _cosaint_ in the hands of a stranger."

He snorted, "A beautiful stranger who happens to be my wife? Yeah, shocking doesn't begin to cover it."

 _He has a secret. I'm sure of it. I don't know what it is yet and I don't know for sure that he'll tell me but every time he looks at me, I see it in his eyes. It's only been a couple of weeks but I know that nothing will ever be the same for me. He can't walk away from this anymore than I can. And I don't want to. I can't imagine leaving him. Not now. We have the Marks._


	2. Chapter One

**A/N:** Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed! Greatly appreciated. We are just getting started! I plan on posting every Tuesday, just so you all know. Enjoy!

 **Chapter One**

 **The Beginning**

She was running. Not for the first time in her nineteen year existence, Felicity Smoak was running.

She weaved through bodies on the crowded downtown street. The market-goers around her were ruffled as she shoved her way between them. She glanced over her shoulder anxiously, knowing that he was behind her but unable to locate him in the crowd. Her heart raced as fear and panic and adrenaline raged within her. The strap of her bag cut across her shoulder, the weight of it thumping against her thighs as she moved.

Ducking between two vendors, Felicity slowed her pace and lowered her head.

If he was still following her, he'd expect her to use the crowd for cover. The market was doing good business early on a Saturday morning, plenty of patrons filling the streets, which was why she had chosen that direction for her escape. And an escape it had been. From another lousy relationship that had – for a short time – seemed like a fairytale. Until the asshole's easy-going attitude had given way to a violent possessiveness that had left her with more than one bruise. Felicity wouldn't let yet another guy beat on her, not again. So she'd grabbed what little she owned, stolen a handful of cash from his wallet, and made a break for it.

Which is how she'd ended up on the sidewalk, in the middle of the city, out of breath and scanning the faces around her cautiously. When she caught a glimpse of him between two stalls, she jumped back and side-stepped into the doorway of the closest building.

She stood there for what felt like an eternity, her satchel clutched tightly to her side, and held her breath. She couldn't be sure that he hadn't seen her. If he had, if Cooper followed her, she was dead. She knew that he'd kill her, or at least try, and she wouldn't be a victim. Not again.

The door at her back opened suddenly and Felicity barely contained a startled yelp as she tipped backwards. Two strong arms were there suddenly, halting her descent, and she found herself looking up into the face of a man she wasn't likely to forget. He stared back at her, the hard line of his mouth showing only a slight hint of amusement but she could tell he was trying not to laugh at her.

"Anyone ever tell you you shouldn't linger in random doorways?"

His gentle voice caused the fine hair on her arms to rise and she struggled to right herself. He released her, stepping away and giving her a full-length view of his body. And it was the type of body that she knew would get her in trouble. Of that, she had no doubt.

"You okay, kid?"

She rolled her eyes at the unintentional dig and straightened her bag. She met his gaze for the first time and a rush of air left her. His charming grin made her stomach swoop.

"Fine, thanks. And kid is a little derogatory, don't you think?"

One dark eyebrow quirked at her tone.

"You're what? Sixteen? Seventeen?"

Felicity scoffed, "Not that it's any of your damn business, but I'm nineteen. Not a kid."

A burst of male laughter from behind her rescuer caused her ears to perk up.

"Kid's got attitude, huh, Tommy?"

Tommy turned slightly and the movement gave her an unimpeded view of yet another gorgeous man. She was either the luckiest girl in the world or she'd actually fallen and given herself a concussion. It was very possible that she was dreaming.

"We're late, Oliver. Again. Get your ass in gear."

Felicity couldn't seem to withdraw her gaze from the man Tommy had just identified as Oliver. She thought the name matched the man perfectly. And while she'd thought Tommy's warm brown eyes had been stunning, she was surprised to find that Oliver's eyes had left her a little breathless. He was tall, towering over her even at a distance, and his broad shoulders moved fluidly beneath a fitted t-shirt. She couldn't be sure of his age but, if she had to guess, she would've placed him in his late twenties. He had slight laugh lines around his eyes and a shadow of stubble along his jaw. Yep, she thought, straight out of a romance novel.

Tommy and Oliver moved at the same time, both of them closing in on her, and it took her a moment to realize that she was blocking their exit. Stepping back onto the sidewalk, she didn't think to look before moving. It wasn't until she heard him call her name that she remembered why she'd been hiding in their doorway in the first place.

"Shit."

"Felicity! You little bitch, get back here!"

She didn't hesitate. The moment she spotted Cooper coming toward her, she turned and bolted in the opposite direction.

This time, she didn't look back. She cut left at the first intersection she reached, immersing herself once again in the flow of shoppers until she could slide between two more booths and emerge on the opposite side of the street. She doubled back, hoping he wouldn't be smart enough to anticipate the move, and when she dashed into an alley to cut over a block, she slammed into the solid wall of a male chest. Large calloused hands closed around her upper arms and she jerked in response, her first instinct being to run.

"Calm down, kid, we aren't going to hurt you."

She froze, glancing up into the second pair of beautiful eyes she'd encountered that day. Oliver was staring down at her with a scowl on his scruffy face. He looked pissed and it took longer than it should've for Felicity to realize that his anger was directed at her.

"What the hell do you want? Let me go!"

He released her immediately and she stumbled back a step. She glowered at him and he glowered right back. She wasn't surprised by the urge that coursed through her. She was ready to pick a fight.

Glancing past Oliver, she noticed Tommy resting casually against the side of one of the buildings. He was eyeing them with an amused grin turning up one corner of his mouth. He remained silent even as she sent a glare in his direction.

She didn't know either of these men from Adam and they were hindering her chance to escape.

"What are you running from? Or, I should say, who? Who the hell was that guy?"

She shook her head, "No one. Now, if you don't mind, I'd really like to get out of here."

Oliver took a step around her and glanced up and down the sidewalk. He turned back to her, still frowning, and she wondered briefly if he ever really smiled. She also wondered why he thought that her life was any of his damn business. They'd met – rather briefly – only a few minutes earlier. He didn't know anything about her.

"This isn't any of our concern, Ollie," Tommy muttered finally, "We're late. You know how much they hate it when we're late. Leave it. She looks like she can fend for herself. She doesn't need a guardian angel."

She didn't miss the weighted look that Oliver threw at his friend. When she tossed another glance in Tommy's direction, his amused smirk was still firmly in place.

"Listen to him, Oliver. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

The man in front of her studied her for a long moment before he sighed and stepped out of her way. He swung out his arm in a 'go ahead' type gesture. But Felicity didn't want to go that way. She wasn't heading back into the market. She was heading for the other end of the alley. She could catch a bus on the next block and put some much needed distance between herself and Cooper. She took a step in that direction only to have Oliver put himself in her path again. She groaned.

"Jesus, will you get the hell out of my way!"

He shook his head ruefully and she heard a muffled chuckle coming from Tommy's direction. She felt her face flush.

"Go back into the market, Felicity. He'll be waiting at the bus stop. You'll be safer if you head up a few blocks and go west from there. Plenty of bus stops over on Harvard."

Her mouth opened to protest but something in her gut told her to listen to him. She wasn't sure if it was the fact that he'd used her name for the first time since she'd met him or if it was something else. Whatever it was, she sighed and resigned herself to the fact that she would take his advice. She hitched her bag closer to her side and stepped out onto the sidewalk again. Casting a weary glance in either direction, she saw no sign of Cooper.

Turning back to Oliver, she asked, "How do you –"

Felicity blinked and whirled around. The alley behind her was empty. A chill raced down her spine and before she could really delve into where they had gone, she shook off the feeling and dissolved once again into the crowd.

* * *

"I shouldn't have to tell you that that wasn't a good idea."

He sighed but didn't turn to face the man beside him. Oliver kept his eyes trained on the young woman threading her way through the throng of people three stories below. He had seen her before. Her golden blonde hair – streaked through with pink - and cool blue eyes had haunted his dreams for months. He hadn't shared that with Tommy and he didn't think he ever would. His brother didn't need to know that he had fallen in love with a woman he had never met.

"He would've killed her if he caught up with her," Oliver explained with as much detachment as he could manage, "It isn't her time."

"You sure about that, Ollie?"

He cast a sidelong glance at his brother.

"You know damn well that I'm sure. I haven't been wrong yet, have I?"

Tommy shrugged, "There's a first time for everything. Look, I'm not going to come between you and your… pet project but we have a job to do. One that we are now incredibly late for. We need to get going."

He remained frozen at the roof's edge for another few moments until she was out of sight. Felicity Smoak wasn't set to die, not today at least. He had done his job and he had kept her out of harm's way. If there had been a slightly personal motivation behind his interference, he wasn't ready to admit it. When he knew that she was safe, he turned to his brother.

They left the rooftop without another word.

* * *

After three days on a bus headed east, Felicity disembarked in a city she'd never visited. She had less than five hundred dollars to her name but she found a decent hotel in a neighborhood – she hoped – was safe enough and paid for three nights in advance. She had a routine any time she started over. And she started over a lot.

She took a quick shower, washing the bus grime from her body, and dressed in the last pair of clean shorts she had. She pulled a t-shirt over her head and loaded her dirty clothes into her satchel. Gathering enough money for the Laundromat and a sandwich, she tucked the rest into the bible in the nightstand drawer. It would be safe there.

She asked at the front desk for directions and set off on foot.

It had been almost four months since she'd run. Phoenix had seemed like a nice place. It was hotter than hell in the summer but it was the kind of heat that she could handle. She'd had a steady job waiting tables at a little family-owned place and she'd been lucky enough to find a decent roommate. Things had been going well in Arizona. At least until she'd invited trouble into her life in the form of Cooper.

Felicity sighed and pulled her thick curls away from her face, restraining them in a low ponytail.

She was tired of running. Five years had lapsed since the first time she'd felt the need to put distance between herself and a bad situation. She'd covered a lot of ground in that time and she'd never bothered looking back. But she was tired now. She felt much older than nineteen. She'd lived through more than anyone else she knew and she really was just a kid.

She scoffed at the thought, remembering the way that Tommy and Oliver had addressed her as _kid._ She knew she looked younger than she was but no kid should have the memories that she had. No kid would've survived her experiences.

Felicity loaded her clothes into one of the many available washers and started the load. Thankfully the place was pretty much empty and she didn't think she'd have to worry too much about anyone stealing her scant belongings. The timer on the machine said she had forty minutes. That would be enough time to grab lunch from the bar she'd passed on the way and possibly inquire about a job.

She left with her near empty satchel slung across her body. The bar was only a block away from the Laundromat and Felicity moved casually, casting her eyes all around to take in as much of this new location as she could. There were several restaurants lining the other side of the street, mixed here and there with clothing stores, a hardware store and a salon. If the bar wasn't hiring, at least she'd have options.

She was two steps from the entrance to _The Little Cantina_ when a glimpse of a reflection caught her attention. Her stride faltered and Felicity turned on her heel. She scanned the sidewalk on the other side of the road but the only occupants where a young couple pushing a stroller between them. He wasn't there.

She shook her head.

It wasn't the first time since their impromptu meeting that her mind had played this particular trick on her. Just the day before, when her bus had stopped at a truck stop to get refreshments and use the facilities, she would've sworn that she had seen him getting into a large black pickup truck at the opposite end of the parking lot. But when she had looked back, both Oliver and the truck were gone.

Felicity remained frozen on the sidewalk until the door at her back opened and the noise of the bar filtered out to greet her. She stepped inside.

"Hola, I'm Rosa. Just grab a table and I'll be right with you."

She smiled politely at the somewhat flustered waitress who fluttered from table to table quickly. She slid into a booth near the front window and glanced around at the crowded dining room. _The Little Cantina_ was a busy place at mid-day on a Thursday. Rosa seemed to be the only server on the floor but the other patrons didn't seem to mind. It was obviously a local place. Conversations carried between tables, not just between the occupants of a single table, and everyone seemed to know everyone. It was exactly the type of place that Felicity loved. A place where she could blend in. A place that could eventually feel like home.

When Rosa finally made it to her table, she was still smiling.

"Hi there. What can I get you, chica?"

Felicity returned her smile.

"Can I just have a glass of water and the number three combo, please?" she asked kindly.

"Sure thing. Pretty sure I haven't seen you around. Are you new to town?"

She nodded, "Just came in this morning. I'm thinking of sticking around for a while, seems like a nice quiet place. Do you know if anyone is hiring in the area? I've got some experience."

It turned out – not for the first time – to be that easy. She wasn't sure if it was just her luck or if something else had a hand in it, but wherever it was she ended up, Felicity had never had trouble finding work.

As it turned out, Rosa and her husband, Jorge, were the owners and operators of _The Little Cantina_ and had been trying to find a new waitress after their daughter had gone off to college.

"If you want to wait until after the lunch rush dies down, I will introduce you to Jorge and we can come up with a schedule."

Felicity nodded, "Sounds great. I need to run over and switch some clothes around at the Laundromat, but I'll come right back."

Rosa agreed and moved away to continue serving the other customers. While she ate, Felicity scanned the room again and memorized the layout. She had been waiting tables since she was fourteen – often off the books – so she was familiar with the routine. She was almost positive she could do it in her sleep.

Leaving cash on the table to cover her meal and a tip for Rosa, she headed up the road to move her laundry into a dryer before making her way back to her new place of employment.

She lingered out in front of the bar for a few minutes, letting the afternoon sun warm her face as she stared at the storefront across the street. He would've had to have stood just there for his reflection to show up in the cantina's window as it had. The sidewalk was empty, as it had been before lunch, but a chill ran down her spine and Felicity was surprised by the goose bumps on her arms.

She blinked dazedly and stepped back into _The Little Cantina.  
_

* * *

He knew it was reckless, letting her see him the way he had. He should've kept his distance. He should've ignored her altogether and simply gone back to his life as normal. But it wasn't that simple. It never would be again. He had seen it, a quick glance when he'd caught her coming into the alley that day, and some carnal need for her rose within him and he hadn't been able to stomp it out. She bore the Mark, the same one that marred his own flesh, and he of all people knew what it meant.

They weren't supposed to be Marked, his kind. It was unheard of. He had never considered what it meant, the scar on his back, until he had begun dreaming about her. About a girl with honey blonde hair and eyes the color of the Caribbean. He hadn't once allowed himself to believe that the small symbol meant that he was Marked. That he was bound to a mortal. The Mark changed everything.

Oliver leaned against the window at his back and continued to watch her as she wiped down a table in the restaurant where she now worked. She'd been in town for all of twenty-four hours and she'd secured employment and was working on finding a place to live. He was impressed. He had expected that she would need his help with one thing or the other but it seemed that Felicity had done all of this before.

She looked up suddenly, her eyes immediately finding him where he stood outside of the hardware store. She must have felt as if she was being watched – which she was – because there was no way for her to see him. Not this time. After a long moment, she shook her head and went back to work.

He stepped out of the shadow of the awning. His shoulders itched, the tell-tale burn a sign of the power he wielded, and then he was rising into the night sky with very little effort. She would never know that he had been there.

* * *

Rosa slid onto the barstool beside her.

"Felicity, mi hija, you are a godsend! I don't know if I've mentioned that today, but I thought it was time you hear it!"

Felicity laughed, sipping at the glass of water in front of her. It was a little after one in the morning and they'd finally managed to clear out the dining room. Saturday nights seemed to be a popular night at the cantina.

"I'm just glad I found you guys," she told the older woman, "First thing I do when I move somewhere new is look for a job and this one is perfect for me. Thank you again for giving me the opportunity to step in."

Rosa gave her a brief hug and slid a wad of cash across the bar. Her half of the tips.

"You came highly recommended! I talked to Mr. Washburn back in Phoenix and even though he was sad to see you go, he gave you great praise. Said I wouldn't find a better employee."

Felicity flushed under the compliment and pocketed the money. She stood, stretching up onto her tips toes, and barely covered a yawn. It was certainly time for her to head back to the hotel and the bed awaiting her there. She had two apartments to look at in the morning and the prospect of getting at least six solid hours of sleep was a pleasant one.

She said goodnight to Rosa and called out a goodbye to Jorge. With her tip money tucked into her wallet inside of her satchel, Felicity headed toward her temporary home.

Walking at a brisk pace with one hand around the can of pepper spray she kept in her bag and the other tucked into the pocket of her jeans, she kept her eyes open and remained alert. She knew walking in an unfamiliar area after dark was a risk. She had been mugged before, more than once, but a car was a luxury she couldn't afford and the small town that she had settled in didn't offer anything in the way of public transportation. She could've asked Jorge or Rosa to drive her home but she refused to put either of them out. They lived in a small two bedroom apartment above the cantina, driving her the mile and a half out of town to her hotel wouldn't have taken long but it would've been an inconvenience.

A cold gust of air pushed at her back and she shivered. It was the end of August in south Texas. Air that cold didn't come out of nowhere, not here and certainly not this time of year.

Fear spiked inside of her, causing her heart to race and her breath to hitch. She kept walking, hoping her quickened pace didn't give away the thoughts running rampant in her mind. She would fight back. She had before and she wasn't weak. She had her pepper spray and she could throw a pretty decent punch if she had to. But running was easier than fighting and definitely less painful. And she was small and quick. Depending on the build of the person threatening her, her petite frame could be her advantage.

A crack in the sidewalk caused her to lose her balance as she caught the toe of her shoe. She gasped, the fall startling her, but as she braced herself for the impact, a strong arm slid around her waist and hauled her onto her feet. A warm body was at her back then and Felicity struggled to get away. As soon as she was free, she whirled to face the man who had both saved and terrified her.

"Ol – Oliver?"

He stared down at her with bright eyes and a scowl on his face. His hands were clenched at his sides, the anger rolling off of him palpable, and she took a reflexive step back.

"How did you find me? What the hell are you doing here? Did you – did you follow me?"

The fear she'd felt earlier was quickly replaced with outrage. There was no way he could've known that this is where she would end up. She hadn't even known when she'd boarded the bus in Phoenix five days prior. It all made sense then. She _had_ seen him at the truck stop and again outside of the cantina that first day. He'd followed her over fifteen hundred miles.

She took another step back, fear returning, and caught her heel on the same crack in the sidewalk. Oliver's hand shot out and caught her before she could fall on her backside.

"Will you please be more careful," he snapped.

She jerked her arm free from his grasp.

"Answer my questions, damn you, or I'm calling the police. Are you following me? How'd you find me here?"

He sighed, "It doesn't matter how. I'm not here to hurt you, kid."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed at the name but it didn't stop her face from flaming. She wasn't sure why it bothered her that he called her that.

"Then why the hell are you here?"

He caught her arm again and jerked her forward a step. There was very little space left between them when his thumb brushed across the raised spot of flesh on the inside of her right wrist.

"This is why I'm here."

She glanced at him incredulously and shook her head in disbelief. She withdrew from his hold with more gentleness than before and retreated again. She didn't feel comfortable being so close to him.

"My stupid birthmark? That's really why you came all this way?" she asked.

Oliver shoved a hand into his hair and the action accentuated the thick muscle in his arm. He was frightening in a way, intense and obviously dangerous, but she also found a beauty in the hard lines of his body and the chiseled features of his face. He wasn't traditionally handsome, not like the pretty men she saw on television and in fashion spreads. His beauty was in the strength and masculinity that he seemed to exude with every breath he took.

"It's not a birthmark. You don't feel it? You can't – you don't know what it means, do you?"

She felt a jolt of anxiety in the pit of her stomach and considered running. He wasn't threatening her. At least, she thought, it didn't feel like a threat. But it was all beginning to feel very much like a romance novel to her. A mysterious stranger coming out of nowhere to rescue her, not once, but three times. And, of course, there had to be some tangled-web of a reason for his sudden appearance in her life.

"Enlighten me."

He shook his head, "Not here."

She looked around at the otherwise empty street.

"Um, okay… where do you propose?"

Oliver's gaze was locked on something over her shoulder but when she turned, Felicity saw nothing but a handful of cars parked on the street.

"Your hotel isn't far, right?"

She made a noise of protest and crossed her arms over her chest. There was no way she was taking him to her hotel. She wasn't stupid.

"Not a chance in hell. Either we talk here, now, or you can meet me somewhere for coffee in the morning."

He sighed again, the sound as close to a growl as she'd ever heard, and she ignored the way heat raced through her because of it.

"Fine. It isn't a birthmark, Felicity. It's a _Mark._ "

She waited for a more explanative explanation but when he remained silent, she glanced down at the faint white arrow on her wrist. She'd had it for as long as she could remember. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about it beyond the fact that she wasn't sure how it had come to be there. Her mother had always explained it away as a birthmark and even though it looked nothing like the birthmarks she'd seen on other people, she'd had no reason not to believe her mom.

"Felicity, do you understand what I'm telling you? It is a _Mark._ "

When realization hit her, it hit her hard. She swayed on the spot and had it not been for him, she would've ended up in a heap on the ground.

She had heard of the Marked. She knew the stories. They were rare, so much so that she had never met anyone in her travels who was Marked. At least, no one who admitted to it openly. And she had never considered for a second that the faint lines on her wrist that formed a tiny arrow meant anything so extreme. She was Marked. They were Marked. She was bound to this man in a way she didn't actually understand.

"You're wrong."

The words left her unbidden and she knew the moment she spoke that it was a lie. She'd known when she'd met him on the street in Phoenix. She'd felt it the second he'd touched her in that alley. It was why she had seen him. She had been unconsciously looking for him. Waiting for him to find her.

"Felicity –"

She shook her head and turned away from him. She started up the sidewalk again.

"Goodbye, Oliver."

She was doing the only thing she could do. The thing she did best. She was running. What she couldn't have known was that Oliver wouldn't let her get far.


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N:** Thank you so much to everyone who has read and reviewed this! Glad everyone seems to be enjoying it so far! Also, to my awesome beta westernbeauty, thanks so much for all your support!

 **Chapter Two**

When she exited her hotel the next morning, Felicity was not as surprised as she should've been to find Oliver leaning against the black truck she'd seen him climb into a few days prior. He was parked near the entrance and it was clear that he had been waiting for her. She approached him with her chin up, her posture stiff.

"You know, I'm pretty sure I'd have a good case against you for stalking," she snapped.

Oliver's eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses but one corner of his mouth ticked in response to her statement.

"We need to talk."

She sighed, shaking her head. She hadn't slept. As exhausted as she had been when she'd left the cantina the evening before, his revelation about their Marked status had kept her up. She'd used one of the guest computers in the hotel to research what she could about the Marked. There wasn't much information available to the public, at least not on the surface, and it had been close to dawn when she'd stumbled on an underground message board for the Marked. Most of the posts had been from people looking for their matches. People posting descriptions and even photos of their own Marks, hoping that their other halves were out there somewhere.

But the board had contained other information, too. She'd had to read between the lines on some of the posts, but what she'd been able to glean from the messages was that being Marked wasn't at all the romantic notion that people believed it to be. From what people were saying, it held its share of danger.

 _That_ Felicity could understand. To be bound by a Mark she'd been born with to a man she had only just met certainly felt dangerous. But not – she'd realized – because she didn't trust him. In the moments that she had been with him, she hadn't once feared Oliver. It wasn't his physical presence that she'd been irked by. It was her immediate attraction to him. It was the way her heart had sped up and her skin had come alive at just the slightest contact. She hadn't even thought about those responses until after he'd assured her that they were Marked. She hadn't recognized the unnatural way she'd been drawn to him back in Phoenix. But as she'd sat in front of the monitor, her eyes blurry from staring so long at the small print on the screen, she'd remembered the way she'd felt the first time she'd heard him laugh. It had awoken something within her. And whatever that thing was, it was becoming more evident every time she saw him. Even then, standing across from him in the parking lot of the hotel, she felt her pulse quicken. She was finding it difficult to breathe properly.

She sighed, "Shit."

"Let me buy you a cup of coffee," Oliver offered, taking a step toward her.

She resisted her immediate instinct to step away, to keep a safe distance between them. One large hand touched her bare forearm, squeezing her gently, and then he took a step back. When he opened the passenger side door of his truck, she climbed in without hesitation.

She watched through the windshield as he moved around the front of the vehicle to slide behind the wheel.

Simply being Marked – and matched because of the Mark – didn't mean that she would be romantically involved with Oliver, she knew that. There were plenty of Marked couples that were not in any way romantically involved. It was believed that siblings could be Marked, other family members. Sometimes your match just turned out to be your closest friend. But that person was always, always, a key player in your life. Once a Marked pair had been joined, it was like a different world for each of them. Some of the stories that she had read claimed that, once together, Marked pairs were happier than they had ever been prior to finding one another. It was believed that, if you were Marked, your partner would be the one true source of happiness in your life. They would be your lifeline from the moment that you met until the day that you died.

And that, she had discovered, was the frightening part.

"How did you find me?" she asked when they turned onto the main road.

Oliver shrugged, "It wasn't that difficult. I followed the bus you'd hopped out of town."

She tried not to let that unsettling fact disturb her. Or the easy way in which he'd admitted it. Instead, she chose to remain silent until they were parked in front of a small diner where she'd had breakfast twice before.

"What do you know about the Marked?"

They were seated across from one another at a table in the back corner of the dining room. She hadn't heard him request something private so she was surprised to find that they were the only ones in that little section of the room.

In response to his question, she said, "Not as much as I'd like to know. You?"

"Probably more than I should."

His evasive answer was a direct retort to hers and she knew it. Sighing, she kept her gaze locked on his vibrant blue eyes and told him what she'd found in her research.

"How much of that did you know prior to last night?" he questioned.

She shrugged, "Just bits and pieces. I've never actually met anyone who was Marked so I never had anyone to ask. There wasn't as much available online as I'd hoped. And a lot of what I did find was really vague. What about you? What else can you tell me?"

Their waitress arrived then with coffee and Felicity ordered breakfast. Oliver didn't ask for anything beyond his coffee and she didn't question him.

"If you think you're going to intimidate me by watching me eat, think again."

He shook his head, a small grin making his eyes shine a little brighter. She felt heat settle in her cheeks.

"Tell me about yourself," he said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, "Who are you, Felicity?"

She didn't answer right away because she didn't know how. She couldn't be sure how far she could go, how well she really could trust him, because she knew nothing about him beyond his name. He claimed they were Marked but she hadn't seen his mark yet. While hers was clearly visible, Oliver's was not.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything. Where are you from? What's your last name?"

She smiled slightly, "Boston, originally. And it's Smoak. Felicity Smoak."

Oliver sipped at his coffee in an introspective silence and she took the time to watch him across the table. His dark blonde hair was thick and just long enough that it stuck up stylishly, like someone had been dragging their fingers through the strands. She found herself immediately imagining what it would be like to be so privileged. The thought made her choke on the hot coffee in her mouth. She set her cup down roughly and stared at its contents. She was not supposed to be thinking about him that way and – if anything about their situation had been normal – she wouldn't have. When she typically met a man, even one she was physically attracted to right off the bat, she wasn't normally so imaginative. But what she'd thought about Oliver's hair had felt so real that her fingers were tingling.

"The guy in Phoenix, who was he?"

She answered his question easily, the words rolling off of her tongue as if she hadn't even considered telling him it wasn't any of his business. And, she realized, she hadn't. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind.

"Cooper? A mistake. Some guy that I let myself get close to but it turned out he was a possessive asshole who thinks that hitting a girl is how you make her want to stay with you."

He didn't flinch at her confession but she saw the way his expression hardened.

Her food arrived then and she was grateful for the interruption. She had no idea why she'd been so forthcoming with him. Lying was second nature to her. She'd learned to be evasive, to keep specific details of her past to herself, but she hadn't felt the need to do that with Oliver. It had been easy to offer up the truth when he'd asked for it.

"You're used to this, aren't you?" he pressed, "Jumping from place to place? Running?"

She shrugged, "It's what I'm good at."

She shoveled a bite of food into her mouth and avoided looking at him. His gaze was hot where it touched her but she didn't feel as if he was judging her or even if he was accusing her of anything. He was curious.

"How long has it gone on?"

She shrugged again. It was becoming a nervous tick.

"I was fourteen the first time I took off."

"Your dad?"

She shook her head, "Mom's boyfriend. My dad left when I was four."

He fell quiet for a moment and when she glanced up from her plate, she found him staring into his cup.

"What about you, Oliver? I know nothing about you beyond the fact that you possess amazing stalker capabilities and you drive a big truck. Where are you from? I know it isn't Phoenix," she asked.

He laughed, "I wasn't stalking you. And why would you assume I'm not from Phoenix?"

"Just this feeling I got. And yes, by definition, you were stalking. But I'll let it slide. Now answer the question. Where are you from?"

"I grew up in Coast City."

She knew the moment that he said it that it wasn't exactly the truth. It wasn't a blatant lie, something in her gut told her that much, but it wasn't the whole truth either.

"How long has it been since you've been back?"

He shook his head, "Not since I was about ten."

"How old are you?"

Felicity asked the question simply to keep him talking. She didn't particularly care if he was twenty-five or thirty-five, age was just a number.

"Thirty."

Another lie, she realized, and she immediately wondered when she'd become a human lie detector. She'd never been so sure of someone else's honesty or deflection and she couldn't help wondering if it was a side effect of being Marked.

She let silence settle between them as she took another bite of her meal. She caught a glimpse of the clock near the front door and took a final drink of her coffee.

"I've got to go," she told him quickly, "I've got an appointment to see an apartment this morning. Two actually."

Felicity got to her feet and Oliver joined her. He dropped enough cash on the table to cover their coffee and her breakfast before leading her back out to his truck.

"You don't have to drive me. I'm perfectly capable of walking," she assured him.

He simply shrugged and opened the door of the truck for her yet again. At least he had manners, she thought as she climbed up onto the seat. If he wanted to play chauffer for the day, who was she to argue?

Felicity pocketed the key to her new apartment as she stepped into the cantina for her lunch shift. Oliver had dropped her at the door, not saying when she would see him again, and she'd watched him drive off. She had had to suppress the surge of disappointment she felt at watching him leave. She really would have to find out more about what all being Marked entailed.

"Good morning, chica. Are you ready for a slow afternoon?"

She glanced up at Rosa's smiling face as she walked into the kitchen. They wouldn't open for another half hour but she had come in early to help Jorge and Rosa set up. Apparently, Sundays were the slowest day of the week and Felicity was looking forward to an easy shift. The night before had been hectic. She had no idea how Rosa and Jorge had gone so long without another server on staff.

"Morning. Yes, after last night, the slower the better. I won't even complain about lack of tips."

Rosa laughed, her warm brown eyes following Felicity around the room. She felt the older woman prepare herself to ask a question and she held her breath as she waited for it to come. She knew that Rosa would've seen her getting out of Oliver's truck if she'd been in the dining room at the time.

"How did your apartment search go this morning?"

She smiled, "Great. I have a small studio above the salon just across the street. Right in my price range. I won't need a roommate and its close enough that I can walk over."

"That's perfect! Is it furnished? You probably don't have much with you," Rosa started.

Felicity nodded before the other woman could offer to provide any additional furniture.

"Fully furnished," she lied, "It's a steal, really. They could probably get a lot more for the place."

And if it had been furnished, her statement would've been true. But the truth was, the built in bookshelves and the barstools that fit at the kitchen island were the only furniture provided. Felicity would have to look at the local thrift store for whatever pieces she could find to fill the space.

What had drawn her to that particular space was its nearness to the bar. Without a car, she was limited to only a few locations. But on top of that, the security it offered had been what had really pulled her in. The salon's owner had assured her that the new security system was top of the line and the only door into the apartment was secured with two deadbolts. The precautions had given Felicity peace of mind.

"Well congratulations, mi hija. I'm happy for you," Rosa told her, "I don't like the idea of you spending all of your money on that hotel. And if you're going to stay here in town you might as well get comfortable."

Felicity turned with a container of salt in her hand, ready to head out to the dining room to refill the shakers at each table, only to be stopped by Rosa's next question.

"And who was that handsome man that dropped you off, this morning? You didn't say that you'd come into town with anyone," her friend pointed out.

She sighed. She'd thought she'd gotten lucky and that Rosa hadn't seen Oliver drop her off. It wasn't that she felt as if she couldn't confide in the older woman, it was simply that she wasn't ready to. At least, she didn't think she was.

"I came here alone," she assured Rosa, "Oliver arrived yesterday. He's a friend."

Rosa didn't comment but something in the way that she looked at her made Felicity feel uneasy. It was the first time since she had walked into the cantina that she'd gotten anything but a good feeling from Rosa and Jorge.

"Well I'm glad you have someone here with you," Rosa said eventually.

The conversation ended there but as Felicity stepped into the dining room, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more that Rosa had wanted to say.

Tommy stood with his back to the side of the building, half hidden in the alleyway, but Oliver knew he was there as he approached. His brother was angry. He felt it in the air around him, but he didn't stop until they were standing opposite one another.

"Oliver, please. Stop this while you can. This is not going to work out for you," Tommy cautioned, "It won't work out for either of you. If she finds out what you are –"

"I can't walk away."

His brother released a frustrated breath and paced away from him. When he turned back, Oliver could see the familial concern in his brown eyes. He wanted to eliminate Tommy's worry but it was pointless to try to deny that what was happening was dangerous. He knew that Felicity would not be safe. She would never be safe with him at her side. But leaving her was no longer an option. Not now that he knew. Now that she knew.

"You're going to get her killed and you know that what they'll do to you will be worse than death."

Fury made his brother's voice reverberate in the space between the buildings but Oliver did not flinch.

"She is Marked, Tommy."

The pacing stopped as Tommy whirled to face him. The confusion in his expression gave way to worry. Oliver knew that he understood then. It had taken one simple explanation and Tommy was falling against the brick façade again, shaking his head. Astonishment replaced the worry.

"Your match?"

"You don't seem all that surprised. You knew?"

His brother ran a hand over his close-cropped hair.

"It's been circulating around. Someone was Marked. One of our kind. Unintentionally, of course. But no one was sure who it was."

Oliver felt himself stepping back but he wasn't conscious of making the decision to do so.

He had never heard anything of their kind being Marked. In all of his years, the rumor his brother spoke of had never reached him. As far as he knew, they were incapable of carrying the Mark. They were incapable of carrying on any kind of lasting relationship so it would make sense that their kind would be free of the Mark.

"You've always seemed like you were looking for someone. Like you were searching."

He gazed at his brother across the alley.

It was true that he had been looking for her. He had searched the earth, for decades he had been looking, but he had never known what it was he was looking for. He had been overcome with a need to find something, someone, but he hadn't been able to understand why. He had never been able to explain the need and he had never tried to. Tommy hadn't questioned him when he had gallivanted off to parts unknown. He had never questioned why Oliver chose to search alone. It was because his brother hadn't needed to ask.

"You never said."

Tommy shrugged, "It wasn't my place. You needed to discover it for yourself. And once you started searching, I knew I couldn't stop you. You would find her and then there would be no turning back."

"What do I do?"

"I guess you follow your heart, Ollie. She practically owns it now. You can't let her go."

When her shift ended at eight that evening, Felicity exited the cantina through the door in the kitchen that led to the alley. She had offered to take the garbage out for Jorge on her way out and as she dropped the two large bags into the dumpster, she felt the air around her shift and cool. She knew without turning that Oliver would be at the mouth of the alley waiting for her.

"Are you planning on following me everywhere for the rest of eternity now that you know we're a matched set?" she called as she turned in his direction.

His truck sat idling, the passenger window lowered. She saw him lean closer to the window. He was smiling.

"Maybe. Come on, I'll give you a ride back to the hotel to get your stuff."

She climbed into the cab of the truck without giving it a second thought. As they headed back to the hotel, she turned and watched Oliver.

"Where have you been all day?" she questioned.

He shrugged, "Around. I met up with my brother."

Her brow lifted.

"Tommy."

"Wait, Tommy is your brother? Wow, I don't know how I missed the similarities. I mean, you're not identical or anything, but I see it."

"Yeah, thank God. Listen, I know you've got keys to your new apartment, but you should stay at the hotel tonight."

Felicity waited for an explanation for his suggestion but he didn't give one. She had planned on remaining at the hotel, given that she was paid up through the following morning, but Oliver didn't need to know that. And he had no real right to make suggestions about where she chose to sleep. He may be her match, but that didn't give him the right to dictate her life.

"Where've you been staying? With Tommy? Why is he here, too?"

Oliver sighed, "You've got a lot of questions tonight."

"And I'd like you a little more if you'd stop being evasive and answer a couple of them."

He laughed, that same rough sound that had drawn her attention to him that first day in Phoenix. She didn't think she would tire of the sound any time soon.

"Tommy is here because he thinks I'm insane for following you. He understands now though. I told him."

"Oh."

She was just getting used to the idea herself and Oliver was already telling people. She wasn't sure how comfortable she was with that but there was nothing that could be done about it now. He had already told Tommy.

He parked near her door and followed her up the stairs to the second floor. When she flipped on the lights in the small room, he closed the door behind her.

"Do you want something to eat?" she asked, dropping her satchel on the bed she wasn't using and going to the phone, "I was just going to order a pizza or something."

Oliver remained by the door. She wasn't sure what was keeping him rooted to the spot but she found herself fidgeting uncomfortably. He was calm, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans, and his eyes were gentle as he watched her. She picked up the phone to keep her hands occupied and called the pizzeria a few blocks from the hotel. She'd ordered from them before.

"And dinner will be here in twenty. You can sit down, you know."

When he dropped into one of the chairs at the small table with the spare bed between them, she found herself relieved. Uneasiness had settled over her as the realization that they were locked away in her hotel room with him blocking the door. She was pretty sure that he hadn't meant it to be that way, that he wouldn't force her to stay in that room if she'd wanted to leave, but the memory of a similar scenario shoved to the forefront of her mind and Felicity wrapped her arms protectively around her middle.

Not for the first time since she'd met him, she'd let her guard down too quickly.

Marked or not, Oliver was a virtual stranger. He'd answered so few of her questions, giving her nothing to go on, and she'd been uncharacteristically open. It was a quality she'd learned to tamp down. As a child, she'd always spoken so freely, something her mom had never appreciated, but after too many instances of being too loose with her tongue and paying the price, she'd learned to keep her mouth shut. Except, it seemed, where her match was concerned.

"I don't know what this means for us."

Her head came up at his statement. She blinked in surprise.

"I don't know either. I mean, it could mean anything, right? Maybe you're destined to be my best friend. I don't really have one at the moment, so that could be it. Or maybe it'll be something else. The question is, how the hell do we determine which is the right answer? I don't know you any more than you know me. I don't even know for sure that you _have_ the Mark."

She hadn't meant to let the last part slip but the moment that it was out of her mouth, she realized that it had been bothering her. She'd believed him with absolutely no evidence. She had taken him at his word, had felt the truth of them in her soul, and she hadn't once considered questioning his claim. But she wanted to see his Mark. She needed to know.

"You don't believe I have one?"

She shrugged, "I didn't say that."

"But you want proof?"

"Wouldn't you?"

Oliver sighed. When he stood, she got to her feet with a little more eagerness than she'd meant to exhibit. They met in the middle of the room and when Oliver presented her with his back and began lifting his t-shirt, she swallowed hard.

"Lower right side."

Her eyes traveled over the patch of mottled, scarred skin that he'd revealed and she felt heat blossom low in her stomach. The small crude arrow was stark white even against a multitude of scars. There was no way to miss it. No way to deny that it was identical to hers. But it wasn't the scar that caused her sharp intake of breath. It was the dark edges of a tattoo that took up the expanse of his back and dipped into the waistband of his jeans. Her hand lifted of its own accord. He jerked in response to her touch.

"Felicity."

She heard the warning in his voice and chose to ignore it. Her fingers slipped beneath the soft cotton of his shirt and as her hands moved higher to stroke along the intricate design etched into his flesh, the material was pushed up and over his shoulders. The tattoo covered his entire back, shoulder to shoulder, neck to waist. It was dark and lovely and perfect.

"Wings."

She was startled by the breathy quality of her own voice. It was soft and full of wonder. She'd never heard herself sound so reverent before.

A sudden spark of electricity passed from his flesh to hers like static and she drew her hand away on instinct. He took a step, righting his shirt as he did so. She was confused when he refused to turn and face her.

"I should go."

There was a strain in his words that she didn't recognize. She opened her mouth to protest, to ask him to stay, but the request wouldn't come. Before she could blink, the door was closing behind him.

He sat with the truck running, the AC on full blast, both windows down.

He felt as if he was on fire, as if he was burning from the inside out. The path that Felicity had traced along his back ached, a deep throbbing that shook him to his core. He had hidden his wings for ages. He had never allowed anyone to glimpse the power that they possessed but when her delicate hands had followed the curves of dark ink, something within him had been awakened.

Felicity Smoak was his match. His mate. He only had to find a way to convince her.


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N: Thank you all again for the wonderful reviews! Your support means the world to me. Also, to whoever asked, I am planning on updating this every Tuesday. And, again, to my awesome beta, westerbeauty, thank you!**

 **Chapter Three**

For three days she didn't see him. Dreams of him plagued her, ones that she couldn't explain and that she didn't understand. She'd woken the morning after their last encounter with an image of him burned into her brain. And what an image it was. Just the thought of it was enough to send a chill racing down her spine. The man in her dreams was passionate and fierce and that passion and ferocity had been directed toward her. He had ignited a fire within her that had followed her from her dreams into the waking world. And it was serving as a damned good distraction.

She shook all thought of Oliver from her mind as she swiped a rag across the counter yet again. The afternoon rush was gone and she rested a hip against the bar where she stood next to Rosa.

"Rosa?"

"Hmm?"

"Is there a decent secondhand store in town? I'd like to find a couple of things for the apartment. Just knickknacks and stuff to make it feel more like home."

Rosa beamed at her and Felicity forced herself to smile back at the older woman. There was still something about Rosa that was bothering her. She hadn't mentioned Oliver again, hadn't asked about him since she'd witnessed Felicity getting out of his truck, but there was an odd shift in her attitude that Felicity couldn't identify. Something had shifted but she couldn't quite determine what had caused it.

"Oh, Felicity, I am so happy that you're getting settled in here," the other woman told her, "And, as a matter of fact, there's a great little place on the other side of town. They've got a nice selection and decent prices. I think you'll find plenty of things there you can use."

Felicity bit back a sigh. She had known before Rosa had given her response that there were no stores nearby that would suit her. She'd looked. Repeatedly. But the location of the store meant that she would have to secure a ride, either with Rosa or with Oliver. If he ever chose to come back.

The sudden sounds of a car backfiring outside of the restaurant burst in her ears and Felicity jumped. Rosa clapped a hand over her heart.

"Dios mío!" she exclaimed, "I swear, one day I'll have a heart attack over nothing."

Felicity laughed nervously, her adrenaline suddenly spiked, and cast a weary glance at the window that looked out over the road. She wasn't sure why she'd been so frightened by the noise but something had set her on edge. Her hands were trembling.

Shoving them into her pockets, she turned back to Rosa.

In her startled state, Rosa had pushed her thick black hair away from her face and in doing so, had exposed her right temple. And the tiny white pattern of flesh that was stamped there. It stood out starkly against her olive complexion and Felicity recognized it for what it was almost immediately. It was difficult not to notice given her own status as Marked. That, she realized, and she'd seen the mark Rosa's husband, Jorge.

A curtain of hair suddenly fell and covered the Mark. When their eyes met, Felicity was aware that she'd been caught staring. A flicker of concern shown in Rosa's eyes. It was a feeling that Felicity understood. She had taken to covering her own Mark in the days since discovering what it was. A heavy watch that she'd found at a pawn shop adorned her wrist. The thick metal band concealed the star that bound her to Oliver.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off," Rosa suggested hurriedly, "It's slow enough. I think I can manage."

She nodded, untying her apron even as Rosa continued to talk. She needed to get out of the cantina. She needed to find Oliver. She had yet to find all of the answers that she was looking for and – even though she was sure he wouldn't have them all – she knew he'd be able to help her.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

Rosa responded with a slight wave as one of the men at the nearest table called out to her. Felicity left her apron in the bin beneath the bar and grabbed her satchel.

She crossed the street quickly, practically jogging up the sidewalk to the building that housed the Robertson's salon and her small apartment. She took the stairs two at a time, jamming her key into the lock as soon as she reached the door. Once safely inside, she leaned back against it and closed her eyes. Her heart thundered in her chest.

Rosa and Jorge were Marked.

She hadn't seen it before, hadn't thought anything of the faint scar-like mark on the inside of Jorge's forearm. She had assumed it was a burn scar courtesy of being a line cook for all of the years he'd been in the business. No part of her had assumed it was a Mark. And, she guessed, that was how most people viewed the mark. If they noticed it at all. To anyone who wasn't gifted with a mark of their own, they'd take no notice to those of the people around them. Why would they? While she'd heard murmurings of the Marked over the years, the legends weren't exactly common knowledge. And, as she'd told Oliver, the internet search she'd done hadn't provided much in the way of answers or explanation.

Breathing heavily through her nose in the hopes of getting her heart rate under control, she couldn't help wondering why the realization of another Marked couple had frightened her as much as it did. Rosa and Jorge were no threat to her. They'd welcomed her into their restaurant, into their lives, with open arms. So why couldn't she breathe?

"Felicity?"

Her head slammed into the door at her back as the sound of his voice startled her yet again. The constriction in her chest was a sign that his presence in her apartment had kick-started her heart with a vengeance.

"Holy shit," she gasped, eyes flying open to find him just inches in front of her face, crouched down slightly so that they were at eye level.

"Are you alright?"

Her hands found their way to his chest and she shoved him away. He took a step back, putting enough space between them that she felt she could breathe again, and she glared at him incredulously.

"What the hell are you doing here? And how did you get into my apartment?"

He hesitated and – miraculously – looked contrite. She felt some of the tension ease from her shoulders slightly.

"I'm sorry. I needed to see you. Figured I'd wait here. I knew you wouldn't want me to show up at the bar so I thought –"

"That breaking into my apartment was a better alternative? Damn it, Oliver, what the hell is wrong with you? You're in serious stalker territory here and it's really freaking me out!"

A long moment stretched between them and when one corner of his mouth pulled up in a smirk, she itched to reach out and smack him. But the desire was overpowered by another much more disturbing one. She shook her head in the hopes of clearing the image of him from her mind.

"I should've considered how it would seem to you," he conceded.

"You mean how it would seem to any normal, sane, human being?"

Oliver sighed, "I've already said I'm sorry. Can you just forgive me and move on?"

She huffed in disbelief and stepped around him. She tossed her bag on the small counter that served as her breakfast bar before sinking down onto the sofa in her living room. Oliver followed her into the room, leaning in the doorway. His eyes were steady as he watched her.

"You and I may be … attached because of these stupid Marks, but we're not even friends. You have no right to just come into my home and –"

Her breath caught as she suddenly cast a glance around the room. The sofa, coffee table and entertainment center against the far wall were all new. Pieces that she had never seen before. Certainly things she wouldn't have been able to afford on her own.

"Did you do this?" she asked, her voice shaking.

She wasn't sure if she should be thankful or furious. She settled on overwhelmed.

He nodded, "I did."

She was on her feet then, crossing to open the door to her bedroom. A large sleigh bed sat situated against the far wall and a matching dresser was near the door. The bed was made up with a multitude of pillows and a beautiful grey and yellow patterned quilt. If she had had the money, if she had had _any_ money, she would've purchased everything in the room for herself. He had somehow gotten everything right.

She blinked back the tears that suddenly burned in her eyes.

"Why?" she muttered.

He was beside her, closer than she would normally have been comfortable with, and she felt it when he shrugged.

"You were sleeping on the floor. Living in this cold, empty space."

"I would've found a way to fill it. I've done this before, Oliver. I'm not a charity case. I don't need all of this."

She couldn't bring herself to ask him to take it all back. For the first time in longer than she was willing to admit, she had a place that felt like home.

"It isn't charity, Felicity."

She went back to the sofa and fell into it. Pulling her knees onto the couch, she hugged them to her chest. She suddenly felt incredibly small and fragile. It didn't help that Oliver literally towered over her.

"You bolted the other day."

There was no need to explain what she was referring to and Oliver didn't ask for clarification. Instead he took a seat on the floor across from her, the coffee table between them. With his legs stretched out in front of him, he leaned against the entertainment center at his back.

"I had something I needed to take care of."

Her head canted to the side and she shot him a quizzical look.

"You panicked when I touched you, be honest."

He shrugged, "This isn't any easier for me than it is for you, Felicity. I don't know how to do this."

"Do what?"

"Be your match. You said that the Mark could mean anything, that we couldn't know for sure how it would change us. You want to believe that it doesn't mean that we're destined to be lovers and, given what little I know of you, I understand that. But I don't believe it for a moment. I've been dreaming of you for months. Searching for you my entire life. I think I'm half in love with you already."

Her gaze remained locked on his and she willed herself not to respond to his statement.

Her life had been one big tangle of bad relationships. She was always running, never overstaying her welcome, always fighting to find the life that she wanted. A life in which she was safe and she'd been searching, too. Searching for someone that she could share that life that made her happy.

"You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. How can you be in love with me at all?"

He shrugged, "I can't explain it, Felicity. I just know how I feel."

She ran a hand through her hair and turned to the window. Warm afternoon sun filtered in and she watched the dust particles float through the rays of light. She felt as if she was in a dream. But only partially, like she was in that place between being asleep and awake, that place where she wasn't sure what was real.

She was real. The furniture that decorated her small living space was real. The man across from her, he was real, too. But his love for her? She couldn't be sure. She had never been in love before, had never considered letting herself love any of the boys that she'd dated over the years. Not that there had been many, but she had never felt anything more than a glimmer of affection for any of them. She didn't know what love felt like. She wasn't sure she would know if she was in love with someone even when it happened.

She felt something for Oliver. Something she couldn't explain. It had started the moment she'd heard him laugh. A bubble of warmth had formed in her chest and every time she'd seen him since, it had grown. Her skin tingled when he was near her, her pulse raced, and she felt things that she had never felt for any man before. But did those feelings equate to love? How could she love someone she didn't know?

"Who are you, Oliver?"

He had asked her the same question just days earlier. She had given him honest answers. She had responded without hesitation, something she had been unable to do with most people. She'd been hurt too many times, betrayed more than once, and opening herself up to someone was asking for trouble. But she had known the moment she'd met him that she could trust him. Trust, she knew, wasn't always earned. Sometimes it was instinctual. She knew beyond a doubt that she trusted Oliver, stranger or not.

It was time to see how much he trusted her.

"What do you want to know?"

"Just tell me about yourself."

He crossed his ankles and made himself more comfortable while Felicity eyed him critically.

"My name is Oliver Queen. I was born in Starling City. We left when I was young. Mom, dad, Tommy and me. He's two years older, by the way. I've lived a lot of different places. Kind of a transient but with steady employment. My job requires a lot of… travel."

She waited for him to continue, ignoring the new questions that were ready to jump off of her tongue.

"My parents died a long time ago so it's just Tommy and I now. Not sure what else you want me to tell you."

"You haven't actually told me much of anything."

He sighed, "There isn't much to tell, Felicity."

"You're supposed to be my match. I want to know what I'm getting myself into. You've just given me the basics. I want to know who you _are_. What kind of man are you? What do you like to do? To read? To eat?"

He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"Are we playing twenty questions?"

She shrugged, "If that's what it takes."

* * *

He sat across from her as she slept, watching the way her chest rose and fell steadily. She was stretched out on her stomach, a throw pillow beneath her head, and her unruly blonde hair stirred with every breath that she expelled.

He had been with her for hours. Talking with her, telling her as much as he could safely reveal about himself. They had compared their likes and dislikes, had ventured among a range of topics that were – for the most part – mundane. He had told her of his childhood and his adventures with his brother in the hope that she would do the same. She'd been fascinated with the books that he'd read and the films that he enjoyed. He had given her more than he had given anyone. He had wanted to be honest, to make a connection with her on a deeper level, and when she'd been comfortable enough to allow herself to sleep while he remained in her apartment, he'd realized he'd made progress.

Letting himself out, he stood just outside of her door for a long moment, unwilling to leave right away. But the tell-tale burn that accompanied the surge of his wings told him that he had been called. He pushed off easily and landed a moment later on the roof of Felicity's building. His brother was waiting and he was not alone.

"Sara."

"Hey, Ollie. How's it going?"

He gave a non-committal shrug in response to his friend's question.

"You okay?"

His brother's question caused him to bristle unexpectedly but he nodded.

"Fine. What's going on?"

Sara and Tommy stood opposite him and their eyes where calculating as they examined him. He knew that Tommy would understand his predicament. He didn't want to leave Felicity, not again. He'd just returned from a three day absence. He wanted to be there with her, not off with his brother and their colleagues.

"We've got another assignment."

"Damn."

Sara rolled her eyes and Tommy sighed.

"Can you please choose another term to express your frustration?" his brother questioned, "You'll be struck down one day if you keep that up."

"Just tell me where we're going."

Tommy explained their assignment with practiced ease and he listened with as much patience as he could manage. If things worked out the way that they'd been predicted to, he wouldn't be away for more than a day or two. He would have to accept the reality that this was the life that he led. Being separated from Felicity was inevitable. He didn't want to think about how it would only grow more difficult as they grew closer.

"She isn't your charge, Oliver. You have others to watch over."

He glared at his brother, "I know that."

"Then stop acting like I've just asked you to cut off your arm. We've got a job to do and I need to know that you can do it objectively."

He bit back a retort to Tommy's prodding and pushed off. Sara and Tommy followed suit and as they made their way to their assignment, he said a silent prayer that Felicity would somehow understand.

* * *

She sat up in her new bed and stared at the note that she'd discovered propped on her nightstand. His words were short, crisp, and she read them twice before setting the slip of paper aside and climbing from the bed.

She was almost certain she'd fallen asleep on the sofa he'd purchased for her. She had no memory of putting herself in bed and the thought of Oliver doing so caused her face to flush. The feelings that he had stirred in her the evening before still lingered. She'd allowed herself to relax around him, to find comfort in his presence rather than fear it. There had been an immediate trust between them and he had proven to her that she wouldn't regret following her instincts.

Felicity sighed as she padded across the apartment in day-old clothes and flipped on a light in the kitchen. The coffee pot was already brewing and another note of Oliver's was taped to it.

She shook her head, grinning in spite of herself, and made her way into the bathroom.

Emerging fifteen minutes later with a towel wrapped around her torso and her wet hair dripping down her back, she fixed a cup of coffee and took it into her bedroom.

It was still early. She had the morning to herself, not needing to be at the cantina until later that afternoon, and while she and Oliver had spent the evening getting to know each other, there had been very little discussion between them in regards to being Marked. She had been so distracted by the man she was slowly learning about that she hadn't once thought to ask again what he knew of the Marked. But, she decided, it didn't matter. He would come back when he was finished with whatever work emergency had dragged him away and she would have time to ask for more information.

When she was dressed and her hair had been arranged in some semblance of order, she slipped her feet into a pair of well-worn sneakers, slung her bag over her shoulder, and locked up. There was a library a few blocks away, at least a twenty minute walk, and she would have access to a computer there. Her first search for anything about the Marked had produced limited results. The chatroom she'd discovered had proved to be the most informative and she knew that if she could find others like it, she was bound to find more about what she'd been fated for.

The sky overhead was dark with storm clouds as she descended the stairs from her apartment. She pulled the hood of her jacket up to cover her hair, hoping to shield her face should those clouds choose to open up and dump their contents down on her, and headed up the sidewalk in the general direction of the library. She glanced over at the cantina as she passed.

Her steps faltered and she barely caught herself mid-stumble.

The decorations that had adorned the front window of the bar where she worked had been stripped and it had been left bare save for the large 'For Lease' sign propped there. Without looking, she darted across the street until she was standing directly in front of _The Little Cantina._ Or the space that had once housed it. She tried the front door, unsurprised to find it locked, before peering into the window.

The place was empty.

And not simply devoid of customers, but completely empty. Even the tables, chairs and booths had been removed.

Felicity stumbled back, stunned, and rubbed a hand over her chest where her heart was pounding at an uncomfortable rate.

She'd been inside the restaurant less than twenty-four hours ago. She'd said goodbye to Rosa. There had been customers occupying at least two different tables. And she had seen Rosa's mark. She had recognized it for what it was and at the same time, she had recognized the fear in Rosa's eyes. For some reason, being discovered as Marked had frightened the other woman enough that she and Jorge had abandoned their restaurant, more than likely their home also, and disappeared in the wind.

And Felicity thought she was good at running.

Turning on her heel, she continued on down the sidewalk, her pace quick. She kept her head down as she went, feeling cool moist air whip across her face, and tried to soothe her racing mind and pulse.

What was it about being Marked – and having someone else know it – that had frightened Rosa so much that they'd fled? She'd read enough to know that there were others who considered the Mark dangerous. But the information she'd found hadn't indicated that being discovered would put a Marked pair in harm's way. No one had mentioned keeping the Mark a secret. No one had said why they were so afraid.

She arrived at the library just as the sky roared to life and lightening lit the world around her. She ducked inside, listening for a moment to the howling window and the patter of rain against the windows. The chill of the air-conditioned room caused her to shiver.

"Can I help you?"

The young woman at the small desk smiled up at her and Felicity forced herself to smile in return. She had no reason to let this woman see how disturbed she suddenly was.

"Yes, hi. I'd like to get a library card," she said softly, barely able to hide the tremble in her voice, "And I was wondering if you have computers available. I'd like to do some research online."

The pretty brunette nodded. She was, Felicity realized, close to her age and stature. Even sitting, she could tell the other woman was just as petite as she was.

"Sure thing. Computers are around back, just past the mysteries. You're free to use them anytime," she explained kindly, "And I'll just need an ID to issue you a card."

Felicity dug a state-issued ID from her bag. It was brand new. Another thing she was sure to do each time she relocated. Especially if she moved from state to state. Once she'd secured an address to provide for the ID, she obtained a new one.

"Felicity. What a beautiful name. I'm Thea. Just let me know if you need anything."

She thanked the young librarian and headed off in the direction of the computers. She was grateful to discover that the library was relatively empty but even so, she checked over her shoulder before logging on to the internet and typing a few key phrases into a search engine.

The results of her search this time were much different than when she'd been fumbling around in the dark. She had a base knowledge of the Marked and that seemed to be the key in uncovering more information. The first website she found was buried under pages of ads and pointless blog entries but when she found it, her eyes locked on the first few sentences.

 _No one knew where it came from. No one could explain to me what all it entailed. But I knew that the Mark will change me. It has changed me in ways I could not have imagined._

 _I was fourteen when we found each other. He is my soul mate. Scoff all you want, there is no better way to explain it. No simpler way to explain the sudden pull that I felt towards him. A man that I had never met before.A complete who literally held my life in his my life is his life. And no, I promise you, I'm not being dramatic._

 _Evan died yesterday. I won't live to see the sun rise tomorrow._

Felicity held her breath and she scrolled the page to read the comments below the final entry. The author's last post had been more than six months ago but the last comment had been only days earlier.

 _My sister was sixteen when she died. Evan was her match. He killed himself and he took her with him. Don't underestimate what it means. What it will do to you._

There were more posts, older, many of them proclaiming similar situations to that of the author. People died because of their marks. They were so tightly bound to their match that when one died, the other did, too. She wondered if it was a compulsion. If, when one have of the pair died, the other felt desperate enough to be with them that they took their own life. But as she continued to read, she realized that that was not the case. In many of the testimonials she read, the second half of the Marked died in an accident or, in some cases, of natural causes. Illnesses that appeared suddenly and took life quickly.

She shut down the page after thirty minutes of reading, her head pounding. Tears burned her eyes.

So many people who had been hurt by their Marks. So many lives that had ended. Not one of the posts that she had read had boasted anything good about the match.

She continued searching and discovered at least two more sites with messages from people who had discovered their Marks but they'd yielded little information of any use. Frustrated, she scrubbed a hand over her face and shut down the computer.

"Did you need help finding something?"

Thea's voice startled her and Felicity sat up abruptly. The librarian stood just inside the small alcove that housed the computer stations.

"I – I'm trying to find information on the Marked," she muttered, a cover story brewing in her head as Thea's eyes widened, "My sister, she was Marked. And she – she died a few months ago. I just want to know what happened to her. I want to know why."

The other woman gasped softly, her expression falling, and she nodded.

"There isn't much to find," she explained, turning and heading off toward the other side of the library.

Felicity followed.

"But you're in luck because I happen to be interested in the subject myself," she called over her shoulder.

She added quickly, "Not because I'm Marked or anything. I've just heard stories, you know? Anyway, there are a couple of books that make reference to the Marked. They were hard to come by and I don't keep them out where anyone can grab them. They're kept in the special collection. I won't even put them in the catalog. But you can certainly look them over."

"Could I – Am I able to check them out? I'd like to take them home. Really delve into the subject matter."

Thea hesitated as they weaved their way through the stacks. She glanced at Felicity with compassion in her eyes and nodded.

"Sure. But I'll need them back as soon as possible. In a day or two, okay?"

"Of course."

They arrived at a door in the far corner of the library. Thea produced a set of keys and unlocked the door. As she flipped on the light and stepped inside, Felicity took a step back. She didn't follow the other woman into the windowless room. Instead, she watched from the doorway as she retrieved a box from a metal shelf along the far wall. She handed the entire box to Felicity.

"There are a few in here that might help you," she explained, "But really, there isn't much."

Felicity nodded, "Thank you, Thea, really. You don't know how much I appreciate this."

The librarian smiled gently and touched Felicity's arm. She tried not to flinch.

"You're welcome. And I'm so sorry about your sister."


	5. Chapter Four

**The First Year**

He slid into the booth across from her, the smile on his face warming her even as snow fell outside of the window.

"Everything okay?"

He lifted her hand from where it lay on the table, clutching it in both of his. The familiar heat of his palm was a welcome feeling and she turned her palm up so that she could lace her fingers with his. Oliver gripped her hand tightly.

"Fine. Tommy was just filling me in on our next assignment."

Felicity nodded, her gaze flicking across the mostly deserted restaurant. December in the Catskills reminded her of a winter wonderland. Flakes fell from the sky, coating the ground in a shimmering layer that she couldn't help but be dazzled by. Years of running and she had always managed to stay in the south. She hadn't seen snow since Boston.

"Where to next?" she asked.

He sighed, "You know I can't tell you. Felicity, I –"

"I know," she shook her head, "I know. It's fine."

He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. The stubble along his jaw abraded her skin.

"It isn't. You know I don't want to leave you."

For a year they had struggled to adapt to their new life together. His job, his calling, continuously took him away from her and while she had told him repeatedly that she understood, she still dreaded every one of Tommy's calls. She hadn't asked him exactly what it was that he did for a living. She had made assumptions. But she had never asked. And Oliver had never been compelled to tell her. At least, not in great detail. She knew enough. She knew that what he and Tommy did was legal and that they protected people. That was where her knowledge of her partner's career ended.

"I don't want you to go. But work is work, I understand that. I've always understood, Oliver. I'm not asking you to stay with me. I wouldn't. But…"

"I know. I just came home. I'll be back in a couple of days. Three, tops. I'm sorry, love."

She smiled softly at the endearment and stretched across the table to kiss him.

"I love you."

He grinned, a flicker of heat lighting his already luminous blue eyes, and her face flushed. It felt as if they had been together for a lifetime, as if her world had come alive the moment he'd come into it, and even though she had been fearful of the intensity between them, she had learned to accept what fate had dealt her. She was Marked and Oliver was her match.

"And I you, Felicity."

She smirked, "When are you leaving?"

"A few hours."

"Good. Let's go home."

They had moved back east only weeks after they'd first met. When Oliver had returned from an assignment to find her in a panic because her friends had vanished and the bar where she'd worked had been shut down overnight. She'd explained to him what she'd learned about the Marked. The deaths she had discovered. The importance of the connection that they shared. And he had assured her that she was safe. That he wouldn't let anything happen to her. It hadn't taken any more than that for her to know that Oliver was not only her match, he was her mate. He was her destiny.

His arm was around her shoulders. She tucked herself into his side, absorbing his warmth, and watched her breath mist in front of her. The walk to the small home they shared was quiet. Felicity had learned long ago to appreciate the quiet when he was with her. Oliver wasn't a talker. Not like she was. And more often than not, their time together was filled with a comfortable silence.

"You'll stay inside while I'm gone?"

She shrugged out of her coat, hanging it in the closet in the entryway. Turning to find him leaning against the closed front door, head down, hands tucked safely away in his pockets.

She sighed, "You know that I don't like being a prisoner here, Oliver."

"I know."

"And I can take care of myself. You've taught me enough to manage."

"I know."

She stepped up to him and slid her arms around his waist. With her chin propped in the center of his chest, she looked up at him and sighed.

"But it worries the hell out of you, doesn't it? Leaving me behind?"

"You know that it does."

She pressed up on her toes and found his mouth with hers. She kissed him softly.

"I'll stay inside. But only because you asked nicely. And because I know you'll make it up to me later."

The breath he released confirmed for her how anxious he was about leaving her. It wasn't the first time and she knew it wouldn't be the last but as the months passed, she realized that Oliver was letting more of his worry for her show. She wasn't sure that she understood it, not entirely, because nothing had happened to her. Nothing even remotely dangerous. So she couldn't be sure what spurred his concern.

She climbed into their bed, slipping beneath the soft grey and yellow quilt he'd bought for her all those months ago, and waited for him to join her. When the bathroom light was extinguished and the door to the room securely shut, she stretched out on her side to face him. He slid into his place beside her. She let him pull her into his arms, throwing her leg across both of his and pillowing her head on his chest. His fingers combed through the loose waves of her hair.

"You'll tell me someday, won't you?"

He needed no clarification, no further probing. He knew what she was asking.

"When I can, Felicity. When it's safe."

"That could be a long time from now. It could be never. There's no way to know for sure."

He said nothing.

"I don't need to know, I guess. I just – It's a part of you. Your job. And it's one of the few parts that I don't know. And you know I don't like mysteries. They bug me."

She angled her face into his bare chest, her lips brushing the warm skin there. Oliver's hold on her tightened as he chuckled and she closed her eyes.

"Goodnight, Oliver."

She felt the gentle kiss he pressed to the top of her head just as sleep threatened to pull her under. He would be gone in the morning.

"Goodnight, love."

* * *

When she woke the second morning without Oliver by her side it was to discover a thick layer of snow coating the world outside of her window. She stood with a warm mug of coffee gripped tightly in both hands. Fluffy white flakes continued to fall, obscuring her view of the street, and Yoda wound his way between her ankles.

Oliver had gifted her with the little tabby with the hope that she wouldn't feel so alone when he was away.

"One more day, Yoda."

She knew that it wasn't a guarantee that he would be home but Oliver was good at trying to get back to her quickly.

Felicity crossed the room to sit at the desk she'd set up. The cat followed, making himself comfortable atop a stack of books. She powered up her laptop, sipping her coffee, and examined the corkboard that was mounted over her workstation. There were dozens of photos pinned among the clutter of scrap paper. Her search of the last few months. Every piece of information she had been able to find online about the Marked. Everything she'd been able to find to help the others.

She'd left Texas with a determination to unravel the mystery of the Marked.

She logged into her site and before she had a chance to scroll through any new posts, a message popped up in the corner of her screen.

Felicity dug her phone from beneath the piles of books and cat and dialed Thea's number.

"Morning. Everything okay? What's up?"

"A new post came in last night," her friend explained quickly, the excitement in her voice evident, "I think we've found a match for Orlando."

"Who?"

"Listed as Saint Louis."

"Pictures?"

"Three. Want me to send them to Orlando?"

"No, thanks, Thea. I'll take care of it. How's everything going there?"

She listened as her friend caught her up on the day to day, pulling up the post from Saint Louis at the same time. Her printer came to life and she grabbed the sheet of paper it spit out. The photo clearly showed a patch of dark skin – a foot from what she could tell – and an almost white scar vaguely shaped like an sunburst. She pulled the photo of Orlando's Mark from the board. They were almost identical.

"Did you check, Felicity?"

She started at the sound of her name and nearly dropped her phone. She'd all but forgotten Thea on the other end of the line.

"I'm looking at it right now. Let me reach out to both of them and I'll get back to you."

She disconnected and pulled up her email. Attaching the photos Saint Louis had provided, she shot off a quick email to Orlando. When she had a response, she'd send Orlando's photos to Saint Louis. Hopefully, if they were right, another match would be made. That would make ten. Ten in as many months. It wasn't much, but it was a start.

She did another quick scan of the site, finding a handful of additional posts that had come in overnight. She clicked through the photos attached, printing them off and adding them to her board. It was crowded with images of the Marked. She received new ones almost daily.

"Felicity?"

She was up and out of her chair the moment she heard him speak her name. She found Oliver and Tommy coming through the front door. They were both moving on their own but Oliver's boots where muddy and she was almost certain that the stains spattered across his t-shirt were blood. It wasn't the first time he'd returned from an assignment looking the worse for wear.

He caught her to his chest when she threw herself into his arms. She ignored the dampness of his coat and the moisture clinging to his hair. Relief washed over her as it did every time he returned. She worried about him when he was away but what she had told him before he'd left stood. Work was work. She understood that what he did was important, even if she didn't know the details, and she wouldn't ask him to stop. Not for her.

"You're okay?"

"I'm okay."

"What, I don't get a hug, too, kid?"

She stepped away from Oliver to roll her eyes at his brother.

"Not until you stop with the 'kid' shit."

Tommy smirked, shrugging out of his coat, and she noticed that he was somehow drier than Oliver.

"I'll put a pot of coffee on."

Felicity made her way into the kitchen – Yoda hot on her heels – and it wasn't until she began measuring grounds into the filter that she realized her hands were trembling.

In the year since they'd met, Oliver had gone on dozens of assignments, some of them taking him away from her for a week or more, but as time passed, she found that she worried about him more and more. She'd thought that it would become easier. She'd thought she'd be used to the worry by now, that she'd learn to ignore it and simply live her life. But sleep was becoming more and more elusive every time he was gone. She found it difficult to eat. The only thing she'd found to distract herself in his absence was her work and – anymore – that could only hold her attention for so long.

The little that she knew about Oliver's job concerned her. He'd come home more than once with serious bruises and minor injuries, none of which he ever chose to explain. His clothes would often be bloodstained. His first few hours home would more or less be spent in silence. He'd shower and shave and pull her into his arms on the sofa while she described to him the work that she'd managed to get done while he'd been away. It disturbed him, she thought, the things that he saw. And while he never told her about his experiences, she knew him well enough to see how he was affected.

Strong arms suddenly wound around her waist and she blinked the haze from her eyes. She fell back against his chest.

"Hi."

"Hey."

His chin was propped on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

She shrugged, "I'm fine. I'm just happy you're here. You are, right? Here for a while, I mean. You aren't leaving with Tommy again, are you?"

"No."

She relaxed and turned her head in invitation. Oliver kissed her softly.

"Do I need to step outside for a minute?"

The sound of Tommy's voice from the other room pulled them apart and she rolled her eyes.

"Go home, Tommy," Oliver ordered half-heartedly.

His brother laughed and Oliver stepped away from her. They both turned to find him standing just inside the kitchen, his hip propped against the counter. He had his coat on again.

"I'll leave you two alone. Just wanted to make sure my little bro made it home safe and sound."

Felicity smiled, "Stay for coffee, Tommy."

He shook his head, "No thanks, kid. I'm gonna head out. I know if I had a girl like you waiting for me, I sure as hell wouldn't be happy with my brother hanging around."

She flushed at the off-handed compliment and Oliver scoffed.

"You'll never find a girl like mine, Tommy. Give it up."

They laughed, Tommy shaking his head, and she remained in the kitchen while Oliver saw his brother to the door. When he returned a few moments later, she handed him a cup of coffee and picked up Yoda. The cat purred loudly as she scratched at his head.

"How'd the assignment go?"

He shrugged, "Technically it was a success."

"But?"

He shrugged again and sipped from his mug.

"You can talk to me, Oliver. I don't need to know the details. The classified stuff. But you can tell me whatever you want to. I'm here for you. I'm willing to listen."

"I know."

"But you don't want to talk, right?" she sighed and set the cat on the counter, "I feel like I'm living with a spy. Or worse, in some bad movie. I'm scared, Oliver. I'm worried every time you leave that you won't come home. And you know what that means. If you die – if something happens to you –"

He placed his coffee on the counter and caught her wrist. She stumbled forward into the circle of his arms. Her forehead fell to rest in between his pectorals.

"Where is this coming from, Felicity? You've never asked before. It never seemed to matter. Did something happen while I was away?"

She shook her head, "No, nothing happened. I was just here. Alone. Just me and Yoda. Waiting."

Felicity suddenly wondered where the intense unease she felt was coming from. She always worried about him, and probably always would when they were separated, but she'd never reacted so strongly before. Something was changing. Everything about their relationship always seemed to be changing.

She felt the rise and fall of his chest as he sighed. Felt the way his breath ruffled her hair and the heat that his body naturally gave off. Her heart sped up, her breath faltering. It had only been two days since she had fallen asleep in his arms but the worry she'd felt had left her vulnerable and needy. Both of which she was unaccustomed to.

"Oliver…"

His finger was under her chin then, guiding her head back as he captured her lips with his.

Heat flooded her as Oliver's hands settled low on her hips. She pressed up onto her toes, deepening the kiss, and he took the opportunity to nip at her lower lip. She whimpered in response, fisting the material of his t-shirt in both hands. She tugged at the garment with a sudden determination.

"Off."

The command was spoken softly against his lips and Oliver complied with a smirk, stepping away from her just long enough to draw the shirt over his head before tugging her back to him. His lips slanted over hers again, his tongue tasting her, and Felicity's hands explored the hard planes of his chest. Not for the first time, she marveled at the breadth of his shoulders, at the sheer size of the man who could so easily consume her. The physical connection that they shared was almost as intense as the emotional one that tied them. It was unlike anything she'd ever experienced and she knew that she would never find it with anyone else. There would never be anyone but him.

His calloused fingers skimmed across the skin of her lower back beneath the hem of her sweatshirt and she shivered. He worked the offending garment off and her hair cascaded in a wave over her bare shoulders.

A flame flickered in his heavily lidded eyes. The look was familiar and it had the same effect on her every time she faced it. Warmth spread outward from her chest, staining her skin a soft pink that he'd expressed a fondness for, and caused her limbs to tingle. It was anticipation racing through her, readying her for what came next. It was unhindered lust and uncontrollable need and love that remained unmatched. It was everything she had feared for most of her life, everything that she had run from. Until she had met Oliver. For the first time in her twenty years, she was running to the unhinged idea of real love. She'd finally decided to stop running away from it.

* * *

She sat at her desk and read through her email.

Orlando had responded. He was more than sure that Saint Louis was his match. She'd been sure when she'd forwarded him the photos Saint Louis had provided. Their Marks were identical. Orlando seemed eager to hear from Saint Louis so Felicity sent photos of Orlando's Mark to Saint Louis, providing what little information she had on Orlando himself, and moved on to check the site again.

It was just after one in the morning. Oliver was still in their bed and when she'd left him there, she'd stood at the door for a long minute admiring the smooth expanse of his muscled back. The sheet wrapped around his waist had hindered her view of the rest of him but she didn't need to see it, the image of his naked form was burned into her brain. She'd had enough experience with it. She'd tiptoed out of the room, knowing full well that it was unnecessary because he slept like the dead, and had fixed herself a cup of cocoa before dropping into her computer chair.

Yoda slunk from the bedroom, yowling in annoyance at finding her gone from the bed, and rubbed against her bare legs. She picked him up and cuddled him to her chest.

"You're awfully needy, you know," she murmured, "Oliver was still there. You could've just curled up with him. He gives off way more heat than me, anyway."

The cat butted his head into her shoulder, snuggling closer, and she grinned.

"I know, I know. You boys don't get along too well. Well, you'll have to get used to each other because I'm not letting either of you go."

Yoda gave a loud purr in response and she rubbed him under the chin.

She read through a handful of new posts that had appeared on the website in the last few hours and stopped short when she came across one titled Buffalo. She clicked on the attached photo and her eyes widened.

"Well shit."

The Mark in the photo was larger than most of the ones she'd seen in the past few months. It was clearly visible on the side of the subject's neck and stood out starkly against the darkest skin she'd ever seen. A strong jawline was the only portion of the face that was visible and she examined it for a long moment. Male, she guessed, mid-to-late twenties. She'd discovered she had a knack for identifying people from just a simple glimpse of a part of them.

But it was the actual shape of the Mark that surprised her. If she tipped her head just so, it was pretty obvious that it was a fleur-de-lis.

She did a quick scan of the corkboard above her desk, eyes searching for a photo she knew to be pinned there. She found it quickly and stood, snatching it from the board and holding it up beside the image on her screen. The Marks were identical. And not only that, they were in the exact same location on each subject. Buffalo and Madera were a match.

"Felicity?"

She jumped, the photo in her hand fluttering to the floor, and Yoda hissed in protest as she nearly dropped him, too.

"Jesus, Oliver. You scared the hell out of me!"

He smirked as she glared at him. He'd slipped on a pair of sweatpants but his chest was bare, as were his feet. His hair was disheveled, his eyes heavy with sleep. She felt a flutter of desire stir in her stomach.

"Sorry, baby. What are you doing out here? Come back to bed."

She deposited a disgruntled Yoda onto her desk as Oliver padded across the room to her. He pulled her up, sitting in her chair before settling her back into his lap. His left hand settled at her waist while his right was warm on her naked thigh. The shirt she wore – one of his – barely covered her behind when she sat.

"I couldn't sleep. Thought I'd check the site and see if there was any new traffic. I think we've found another match."

She nodded toward the monitor and the hand on her waist tightened as he looked at the screen.

"Where?"

"This one is Buffalo. I've been looking for a match for Madera for almost three months. She's been on my board for a while."

Oliver pressed his lips to her jawline, lingering just below her ear.

"How many does that make?"

"Eleven. And it's weird because we just found the tenth yesterday. It doesn't happen so quickly, finding them back to back."

"Never happened before?"

She shook her head, "Not so far. Usually weeks go by between matches, months sometimes. The one we found yesterday was the first we'd seen in almost two months."

He hummed in acknowledgement of her words but he didn't comment. She closed down the window she'd had open before shutting down the computer all together. Oliver's arms wrapped around her waist, anchoring her to him, and she rested her temple against his.

It still amazed her how quickly she'd grown to love him. And the intensity with which she loved him had frightened her.

She had never had a relationship as good as the one that they'd created. Love had never been a factor. She'd always been drawn to the bad ones, the ones that left her broken and miserable. Men who treated her like she had no worth, no value. She'd tried to avoid them. She'd known better in most instances but she'd never had the strength to say no before things got bad. It wasn't until she was pushed to her limit that she chose to leave. And when she left, she ran.

But she knew that it wouldn't happen with Oliver. She wouldn't run. She wouldn't leave. Because she loved him. Because he was her match. Because he wouldn't let her.

"Felicity?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

She smiled, turning to press her lips to his cheek.

"I love you, too."

For a moment they sat in silence. The feel of his breath warm on the exposed skin of her throat calmed her, the feel of his heat making her sleepy again. But she couldn't have prepared herself for what he said next. His words shocked her.

"I want to marry you, love."

She blinked dazedly, leaning away from him enough that she had a clear view of his vivid blue eyes, of the earnestness in them. Her heart stuttered to life in her chest.

"Oliver…"

He shook his head, drawing her against him once more, and took her lips with his. The kiss was gentle and warm but she felt the importance of the moment, of his statement, all exemplified in the gesture.

She had known that things were changing, had felt it in the way he'd worried over her and the way she'd feared for him. She felt it the moment he'd told her that he was leaving and the same feeling had exploded inside of her the moment he'd returned.

It wasn't the change that she had expected but she accepted it happily.

"You're sure?"

He sighed, "I have known from the moment that you appeared in my dreams that this was our destiny, Felicity. This is the path that fate has laid out for us. I want you to be my wife. Would you do me the honor?"


	6. Chapter Five

**A/N:** Thanks again to my beta westernbeauty and to all of you who are reading and reviewing! Hope you enjoy this chapter and the ones that will follow it!

 **The Second Year**

Felicity looped her arm through Oliver's elbow and smiled when he glanced down at her.

The supermarket was crowded for a Sunday afternoon and as they strolled through the produce section, she found herself scanning the faces of the people around her. It had become habit over the years, searching for others who – like them – were Marked. When she found them, she stayed quiet and avoided eye contact, hiding her excitement. The Marked, she knew, were afraid. Afraid of being discovered, of being used. It wasn't as if many people truly recognized the Marked for what they were but those who did posed a threat. That, at least, was the general consensus among them.

"Apples or strawberries?"

"Huh?"

She blinked up at Oliver. He frowned.

"You're doing it again," he accused gently.

"Sorry. I can't help it. It's sort of my job to help them."

Oliver shook his head, "It's only your job if they ask for your help. You know as well as I do that the Marked are skittish. You'll scare them off if they catch you staring."

She sighed and bagged a dozen apples. His hand brushed across the small of her back, settling on her hip, and he held her at his side. He lowered his voice to whisper in her ear.

"I know you want to help them find each other, Felicity, but not everyone wants to know their match. Not everyone can be as happy as we are."

She scoffed, "You don't think I know that?"

"I know that you do, love, which is why your blatant disregard is beginning to worry me. You've been a little distracted lately. A lot, actually. What's going on, Felicity?"

She stepped away from the security of his arm around her and pushed the cart into the next aisle. He followed wordlessly.

She couldn't explain her sudden anxiousness, the impatience that she felt. She couldn't explain it because she didn't understand it herself. But she couldn't shake the feeling that she was running out of time. It was like someone had flipped an hourglass and the sand was draining rapidly.

"Why won't you tell me what's wrong?"

Oliver's question was quiet, meant for her alone, and he knew she'd heard him.

"Because I – because there isn't anything to tell."

He came up behind her, his hands settling on either side of where hers gripped the shopping cart. She was caged in with his chest at her back and the cart in front of her. If he had been anyone else, she would've panicked.

"Not only am I your match, Felicity, but I'm also your husband. Please, just talk to me."

She hesitated, the breath caught in her throat, before leaning back into the expanse of his chest. The way that he caged her made her feel safe, protected, and she marveled for a moment at the way that being with him had changed her. She never felt trapped with Oliver. She never feared him. The Felicity of only a few years ago would've fought against his hold.

"I don't know how to explain it. It's just this… this feeling in my gut. Like something or someone is telling me to hurry. Like there's a timer counting down to something big and there's not much time left."

He tensed behind her. His body's response sent goose bumps skittering along the exposed flesh of her arms. She tilted her head to get a good look at his face. His expression was blank.

"What is it?"

He shook his head, schooling his features and giving her a tight smile.

"Nothing. And I understand wanting to follow your instincts, love, but there's no timer, no countdown. You've got all the time in the world. You and Thea have already made great progress and there's nothing to stop you from continuing. I just think that you should be more cautious."

She sighed. She'd been dropping her guard lately, letting the desperation she felt in her gut guide her, and she knew that it was dangerous.

Not all of the Marked wanted to be found.

"I'll be more careful," she conceded finally.

His warm lips brushed her temple.

"That's all I'm asking."

His large, calloused hands grasped her arms, sliding down to her hands and smoothing away the chill. She took comfort in his touch, forgetting for just a moment that they were standing in the middle of a crowded supermarket.

She stepped from his embrace, pushing the cart down the aisle, and he stayed close behind her.

"Do we need cat food? I forgot to check."

He shrugged, "Might as well pick some up. We're going to need it eventually."

And just like that, the subject was dropped. She shoved the clawing feeling away, the feeling of time escaping her, and – for the moment – Felicity went on with her life.

* * *

She sat in bed beside Oliver's sleeping form. Her laptop was open in her lap and Yoda's soft body was curled in the space between her legs. It was early, the summer sun just peaking over the horizon and seeping in through their bedroom window.

Finding sleep had always been a problem for her. At any given time, a million different things were racing through her mind, keeping her awake. Her husband, on the other hand, slept like the dead.

Clicking through the website, Felicity scanned each new post that had come in overnight. She knew that her behavior was beginning to border on obsessive. She understood that Oliver was worried about her. But she couldn't stop the voice in her head urging her to dig deeper. To find the others, to help them find each other. It was an overwhelming force that she couldn't fight.

The thought frightened her more than she let on.

There was no explanation for it. She didn't know where it came from. She didn't know why she felt the way that she did but she knew that she had to follow her instincts. She had to follow the path that seemed to have been laid out before her. And that path – she hoped – would lead her to answers.

Answers to questions like why were only some Marked? What made them special? And what, if anything, was their purpose?

She'd done as much research as she could, digging into the pasts of the few people she knew to be Marked, the ones who'd been willing to talk to her. She had compiled lists and charts and diagrams. She had poured over the information for hours on end, typically when Oliver wasn't home, but she'd yet to put it together. She had yet to find the thread that tied them all to one another.

A sound of distress broke the silence of the bedroom and Felicity started.

Glancing at Oliver where he was stretched out beside her, she realized that he'd shifted. He was curled in on himself and clutching the pillow beneath his head as if it was anchoring him to something. The noise came again, a terrified whimper that was like a knife to her heart.

She deposited her computer on the nightstand quickly.

It was clear that he was in the midst of a nightmare. His breathing was harsh, his chest rising and falling rapidly as air escaped him in sharp pants. She lay across his back, settling her weight over him, and felt the thundering of his heart against her chest. Her own panic rose when her name left his lips a broken cry. In all the time that they'd shared a bed, she couldn't remember him ever having a nightmare.

"Shh, baby, I'm here. It's okay. I'm here."

The words were a murmur against his ear as her fingers stroked his stubbled jaw.

"Wake up, Oliver. It's just a nightmare. Wake up, baby."

He moaned softly, turning his face away from her, and she pressed open-mouthed kisses to his shoulder.

"Come on, Oliver. Wake up."

He muttered something unintelligible and shifted beneath her. He was too warm, his flesh hot to the touch, and she pushed sweat-dampened hair away from his face. His breathing began to slow, evening out and she felt the pounding of his heart lessen.

"Why are you trying to smother me?"

His voice, still heavy with sleep, calmed her own racing heart and she smiled. He turned his head and eyed her suspiciously.

"Trying to kill off your old man?"

She shrugged, relieved that whatever turmoil had plagued him in sleep seemed to have faded, and replied, "What can I say? I only married you for your money. If you're gone, I inherit everything."

"Nope. Changed my will a while back. Tommy gets everything. Good luck getting a dime out of him."

Felicity kissed the corner of his mouth, lingering longer than necessary, until he rolled to his back, leaving her sprawled across his chest. He kissed her properly, nipping at her bottom lip, and banded his arms around her back.

"You okay?" she questioned softly.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She retreated slightly, propping herself up on his nicely defined pectorals.

"You were having a nightmare."

He blinked up at her, his confusion evident.

"I don't remember."

She shrugged, "That's probably a good thing. You sounded really upset."

He seemed slightly distraught by what she was telling him. How he couldn't remember what had seemed like an intense nightmare, she wasn't sure. Her own nightmares, when she had them, stayed with her for hours after she woke.

"Did I wake you?"

He tucked her hair behind her ears, fingers tracing along the shell as he did so.

"No, I was working."

She touched her lips to his again in a soft, chaste kiss that heated quickly. The pressure of his mouth on hers, their tongues dueling, sent a swooping sensation to her stomach. When they broke apart, she was more than a little breathless.

"Good morning."

She grinned goofily, "Good morning."

They lay that way for an undetermined amount of time. Lazy kisses were exchanged, soft words and gentle touches. They talked about how they'd spend the rest of the day and about the few promising posts that had come in the night before. His hands never left her, trailing over her shoulders and down her back until they slipped beneath the hem of her nightshirt and began to dance along her spine. Their legs were tangled beneath the sheets. Her head rested over his heart again and she drew indiscernible shapes across his golden skin.

Until Yoda, apparently feeling neglected, hopped up onto the bed again and butted his head against her nose. He let out a despondent yowl that made her laugh.

"Poor baby, are we ignoring you?"

She scratched under his chin and the yowling faded away into a loud, happy purr. At the same time, Oliver's phone rang from where it rested on the dresser.

He sighed, "Guess that means it's time to start this day, huh?"

Felicity made her way out of their bed, immediately missing the warmth of her husband wrapped around her, and padded out to the kitchen with Yoda hot on her heels. She poured fresh kibble in his bowl and refilled his water dish. Coffee for the humans always seems to come last, she thought, rifling through the cabinets for the specially ground beans that Oliver had ordered for her.

He emerged from the bedroom just as she was filling a mug for him. The look on her face was the same one that she had seen so many times before. Her good mood faded almost instantly.

"How long?"

He came into the kitchen and slipped his arms around her. He set his chin on her shoulder.

"A day."

"Just one?"

"Just one."

She sighed and lifted her coffee to her lips.

"I'm sorry, love."

She shook her head, "Don't apologize, Oliver. Please. I shouldn't get so … upset every time you tell me you're going. I should know better by now right? This is just a part of life for us."

He said nothing. She moved away, handing him his cup and resting her hip against the counter.

"When do you have to leave?" she asked.

"Couple of hours. Do you want to watch a movie? Go out to breakfast? We can do whatever you want until then."

She eyed him over the rim of her mug as she took another sip of the warm, sweet coffee. She didn't want him to worry about her. She didn't want him to think that she was angry with him for leaving or that she couldn't handle it. They had been together for long enough that she knew what to expect of his job. And while the work he did with his brother had slowed somewhat over the last year, pretty much since they'd exchanged vows, he still had a job to do. A job that he seemed to be good at. A job that took him away from her more than she liked. But he was her husband and she could be a supportive wife. She would be.

Setting her mug on the counter beside the coffee maker, she stepped around him and walked out of the kitchen.

"I think I'm going to take a shower," she called over her shoulder.

She drew her t-shirt over her head as she went, knowing that he could still see her. She wasn't surprised when, just a moment later, his own mug landed hard on the counter.

* * *

He crossed the support beam, coming to a stop beside his brother. They stood in silence for a long moment, observing the scene on the bridge below, before Tommy turned to him.

"You okay, little brother?"

Oliver clenched his fists at his sides, gritting his teeth against the pain of his wings dissolving back into his skin. When the pain had passed, he answered Tommy's query.

"Felicity woke me up this morning and –"

Tommy held up a hand, "I do not need the details of your sex life, Ollie."

" – and told me that I'd been having a nightmare, you jackass."

His brother cast a skeptical look in his direction and Oliver shrugged.

"I don't remember any of it. Don't have a clue what I dreamt about."

"Is that uncommon?" Tommy asked.

Oliver hesitated, eyes flicking to the heavy traffic flow hundreds of feet below the beam where they waited. He saw the blue car weave in and out of the other vehicles on the bridge. It wouldn't be long now.

"It is. I remember everything I've dreamed. Always have. So to wake with no memory of my dreams… of my nightmare, it's worrisome. And then there's the fact that I've never had a nightmare. Ever. You know as well as I do that we aren't supposed to have them."

Tommy shook his head, his own gaze locked on the car that Oliver had been following. The wind whistled past them, knocking into each of them with enough strength to take a grown man to the ground. Neither of them were moved.

"What the hell could it mean?"

Oliver shrugged, "Damned if I know."

His brother scoffed.

"Not when I'm standing so close, okay? I'm not looking to get struck down with you."

The screeching of tires reached them just seconds before the sound of metal on metal. Time in the world below seemed to slow, the blue sedan careening to the side of the bridge. It crashed through the guardrail.

"You gonna head down there and take care of that?" Oliver tossed out.

Tommy shook his head, "This one's on you, man. You know how much I hate the water."

* * *

Felicity rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stared at the screen in front of her. She'd been reading for almost two hours. The tiny print was beginning to blur and she felt a headache coming on.

"Okay, Yoda, time for a break."

She stood, stretching, and had almost made it five steps from her desk when her phone rang. She knew without looking that the caller was Thea. Her only friend. The only one who ever called her. Even Oliver never called.

"Hey, Thea."

"Hey. I didn't wake you, did I? I know it's a little later where you are but I thought you might still be up."

She grinned to herself at her friend's rambling. It wasn't uncommon. Thea was eager and always itching to get every word, every thought, out as quickly as possible. They had actually only met twice in person, on Felicity's first trip to the library in Alice and on her final trip to the same library. She'd only gone back because she'd promised to return the material on the Marked that Thea had loaned her. And she'd had to fight with Oliver to get him to stop there on the way out of town.

"It's okay, I was still up. What's going on?"

"I was going over all of the stuff that you've put together," her friend explained, "Trying to look at it with fresh eyes, you know? Anyway, I think I might've stumbled across something that could be the common factor among the Marked."

Felicity paused with her hand halfway into the freezer where she'd been about to retrieve a carton of mint chip.

"What?"

"Felicity, I think I've figured it out."

Her heart was suddenly in her throat. She shut the freezer door with more force than necessary and stumbled over to the small kitchen table. She sat down.

"Tell me."

Thea took a deep breath before she began.

"Well, I took what you sent and started looking it over. And I noticed something about the birth records of the Marked that we've gotten so far. I know all of the names are blacked out for a reason and I know we've promised to protect the privacy of the people that we help, but I might've found a way to uncover the names and –"

She gasped, "Thea!"

"I know, I know! And I'm sorry, really I am, and I swear on my life that I won't tell anyone. And I've already gone through the process of blacking everything out again. No one else is going to see the information."

"Jesus, Thea, I –"

"Felicity, I know! But listen to me, dang it."

She bit her lip to keep from laughing – or arguing – and waited for Thea to continue.

"Every one of the Marked that we've talked to so far, those who've been willing to share their information with us anyway, they've all lost their mother."

Felicity tipped her head back and sighed.

"That's not that surprising, though. I mean, yes, it's kind of a stretch but some of the people we've found are already in their late sixties or seventies. It's natural that they've lost one or both parents," she pointed out.

"You didn't let me finish. Their mothers died in childbirth, Felicity. All of them."

She felt her heart bottoming out again. It was a good thing she was still sitting down.

"You're certain?"

"Positive."

Felicity let the silence stretch on between them, allowing hope to fill her only to chase it away just as quickly. It wasn't possible. What Thea had found was one hell of a coincidence but that was all that it could be. Her own mother – as far as she knew – was alive and well back in Boston. Her mother hadn't died during childbirth but she was Marked.

And how had she missed such a strong link between them? She'd been over her research time and again, had read through hours' worth of notes scratched on random sheets of paper. There was no way she could've missed something as important as this.

"How did you figure this out? I mean, what did you –"

"I dug through public records. Looked for the birth parents based on the information we already had. A couple of the Marked who've been in contact are adopted, those ones were harder to find, but it's still the common thread."

She shook her head. She wanted to tell Thea that she had it wrong. It was just a coincidence that all of these people had lost their mothers. It had to be, otherwise her own mark wouldn't make sense.

"What are you thinking, Felicity?"

Her friend could hear the obvious hesitation and Felicity sighed.

"Nothing. I guess… I'm just in shock that's all. After all this time, all this digging, and the answer was there all along."

"Well I still think we need to gather more information. There are only about thirty people so far. That's a pretty small percentage of the people out there who are Marked, I'm guessing, so it could just be a really, really big coincidence," Thea went on, "But I don't think so. I think this is it, Felicity."

She agreed with Thea and they talked for a few more minutes about how they would continue before Felicity begged off, telling Thea she was exhausted and would talk to her in a couple of days. As she hung up the phone, she stared at Yoda where he sat on the kitchen counter. He stared right back, his tail swishing.

"She's wrong," she told the cat, "She has to be. My mom isn't dead."

Yoda's tail twitched and he cocked his head to the side. She was a little put off by the gesture.

"What? You think I'm wrong?"

His tail twitched again.

"Jesus, now I'm talking to my cat like he's actually going to answer me!" she groused, "Oliver needs to come home soon. I need someone to talk to who can actually talk back."

With a quick glance at the clock, she found it was just after midnight. Oliver had been gone for twelve hours.

"He'll be home in the morning," she assured herself.

Scooping Yoda up off of the counter, she carried him across the house toward the bedroom, turning off lights as she went. She had set the alarm hours earlier before she'd settled in for the night. She was safe in their home and even though she had a niggling feeling that something wasn't quite right, she shook it off. She was shaken up by what Thea had found, that was all. There was nothing wrong. Nothing was going on. Nothing was going to happen to her. Oliver would be home in the morning. Everything was fine.


	7. Chapter Six

**A/N:** Hola, everyone. Here is the next chapter. Hope everyone is enjoying this fic so far, I'm having a lot of fun writing it! Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed and, of course, to my awesome beta westernbeauty.

 **Chapter Six**

Felicity woke with her heart in her throat. Her eyes scanned the dark wildly, finding nothing, and she scrambled to reach the bedside lamp. With her hand on the chain, she froze. The sound of heavy footsteps carried from the living room. It wasn't Oliver, she knew. It couldn't be. He never woke her, never arrived home in the middle of the night. She had asked him once if he did it on purpose to avoid scaring the life out of her. If he purposely came home during the day, when he knew she would be awake. He hadn't denied it.

Clambering from the bed, she dashed across the room, wedging herself behind the open door.

The footsteps drew closer.

Her hands trembled where they were wrapped around her abdomen. The house was dark, quiet, the only sounds she heard beyond the footsteps were her own ragged breaths, and she wished that she knew where Yoda had run off to.

She wondered then about the alarm. It had been at Oliver's insistence that she'd agreed to have one installed when they'd moved. She was positive she'd armed it before crawling into bed for the night. No one knew the code apart from her and Oliver. They hadn't even given it to Tommy, the only person who ever visited their home.

Glancing at the clock on Oliver's side of the bed, she wasn't surprised to discover that its face – normally illuminated with bright red numbers – was dark. The power was out which would explain how someone had bypassed the alarm.

She felt a shift then, felt the weight of another person being present in her home, and knew that they were close. She held her breath as the intruder stepped over the threshold into their bedroom. They pushed the door open a fraction further and she made herself as small as possible behind it. From her hiding place, she watched the silhouette of a man move through the darkness. He was tall, maybe as tall as Oliver, but wiry. He didn't have her husband's breadth and for an aching moment, she wished that he was there with her. She wished that she wasn't alone.

Fear struck her fast and hard and she bit back the tears that threatened to fall. She had always been safe when Oliver was away. She had never been afraid. She was now.

The door concealing her was wrenched forward suddenly and a startled cry burst out of her. He reached for her, a cold hand closing around her wrist like a vice even as she fought to get away. He shoved her to the floor and Felicity gasped as pain shot through her elbow. He stood over her in silence, the glint in his eyes the only feature of his face that she could really make out, and a thousand different scenarios raced through her mind, each more terrifying than the last.

She had no idea what this man wanted from her, why he had targeted their home. They lived in a small, one bedroom hunting cabin. It had been remodeled in the last five years but it wasn't anything special. It was small and comfortable and it was home. But they didn't have anything of value, nothing worth stealing. They didn't even own a television. If this intruder intended to rob them, the most valuable item he'd find was the diamond ring on her finger.

"Please," she breathed, terror making her throat thick, "Take whatever you want. Don't – don't hurt me. Please."

She wasn't opposed to begging if it meant that he left her unharmed. Her elbow ached from where it had collided with the wood floor but if that was the extent of her injuries, she would be lucky.

He lunged for her then, the weight of his body knocking her to her back, and another shock of pain raced through her, this time originating at the back of her head. His hands gripped her hair roughly, strands being pulled from her scalp, and she whimpered. The panicked sound left her without her permission as he leaned into her face. She felt his hot breath ghost across her cheek and terror lanced through her as he drew closer to her lips. The thought of this man kissing her brought bile burning to her mouth.

His grip on her hair tightened and before she could determine what his next move would be, he brought her head up from the floor before slamming it down again.

Blinding pain caused her vision to blur and made her stomach roil. He repeated the motion and she screamed, tears escaping to slip into her hair. His open hand collided sharply with her cheek and her head rolled. She stared blindly into the space under their bed.

Yoda was huddled there. He blinked at her, his tail swishing. She blinked back, more tears falling, and braced herself for whatever came next.

She wanted Oliver. She wanted to feel his arms around her. She wanted his voice in her ear and the warmth of his palm against hers. She wanted to look into his eyes one last time.

A hard object rolled across the floor towards her, coming to rest against her fingers where they were stretched out on the rug. It was warm and solid and thrumming. She blinked again in an attempt to clear her vision and found a faint glow emanating from beneath the bed. Yoda was still there, still watching, and he nudged the object in her direction. It was as if he was urging her to take it.

She grappled for it, fighting off the waves of agony threatening to drown her, before her fingers finally closed around it. The thrumming intensified as though it was responding to her touch, the strength of it racing up her arm, and though she had no clue what it was she held in her hand, something in her told her that she could use it. That she had to. Whatever it was, it was a weapon and it would save her life.

She raised her arm, the action stilted and unsure, but she saw her attacker's eyes travel to the object she held. She saw them widen briefly, possibly in recognition, and then she jammed the end of the weapon into his rib cage. His entire body jerked, a spasm rippling through him, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed on top of her. It was like he'd been electrocuted, like the object she wielded had held some kind of charge that had taken him out.

Weakly, she shoved his body off of her and slid herself as far from him as she could get. She sat up slowly, using the bed as support, and when she touched the back of her head gingerly, she felt the warm stickiness that indicated she was definitely bleeding. She swayed, wincing at the throbbing in her skull, and fought the urge to vomit. Everything around her was blurring again, her vision faded, and before she could reach for her phone, the world around her went black.

* * *

 _"They were in my house, Tommy! He nearly killed my wife!"_

 _"Keep your voice down, will you? I know what happened. And I'm sorry that Felicity got hurt but, Oliver –"_

 _"No. Damn it, Tommy. No. She is too important. I can't – I won't –"_

 _"She's going to be okay."_

She blinked up at the ceiling and knew immediately that the bed she lay in was not her own. The harsh fluorescent bulbs overhead and the bland décor of the room indicated that she was in the hospital. Which, she thought, made sense. She had nearly been beaten to death. She couldn't remember much, only bits and pieces, but she remembered the shock of pain as he'd smashed her head into the floor repeatedly. She remembered the terror she'd felt. She had been sure that she was going to die.

Moving at a snail's pace, she turned her head to the right and found Oliver asleep at her side. His head rested on the edge of her bed and he clutched her right hand in both of his. His face was turned to her. The stubble on his cheeks was dark, like it hadn't been attended to in days, and she wondered how long she had been there. There were worry lines around his eyes and a scowl pulling at his mouth. The tension that normally left him in sleep hadn't faded. She could see it in the set of his shoulders.

"Oliver?"

Her throat itched as she gasped the words. She coughed, her chest rattling, and the sound of it startled him awake. He sat up quickly, his worried blue eyes landing on her face.

"Jesus, Felicity," he muttered, leaning over her and pulling her into his arms as much as possible, "You scared the hell out of me, baby."

She closed her eyes, fighting the small sob that worked its way out of her, as he pressed his lips to the side of her head.

"What happened? What day is it?"

"Thursday. What do you remember, Felicity?"

She shook her head. If it was Thursday, that meant she had been unconscious for nearly two full days.

"Someone was in the house. He – he attacked me. Hit my head against the floor. I thought he was going to kill me. I thought – I thought I was never going to see you again!"

The words were strangled, tight, as she felt herself breaking down. Fear swamped her. The residual panic from her attack tore at her chest and she struggled to breathe. Oliver sat with her, their hips pressed together as he pulled her up into his arms. He rested his forehead against hers, his lips gentle as they brushed over her nose, her eyelids, the apples of her cheeks. He held her until her shoulders stopped shaking, his voice in her ear assuring her that she was okay, she was safe.

"Do you remember anything about the man who did this to you?" he questioned when the panic had passed, "Anything at all?"

She shook her head again, "No. It was too dark."

She found herself clutching at the front of his shirt, unwilling to let him go.

Felicity had felt fear in her life. She had felt pain. She had been harmed by the hands of people who were supposed to love her, to want to keep her safe, but none of those instances could compare to what she had gone through the night she was attacked. She had been safe for so long. She had been protected. She had let herself believe that no one could hurt her anymore. She'd let herself think that there was nothing left to fear. She had been wrong.

"Look at me, love."

Her shoulders heaved as she drew a steadying breath into her lungs before lifting her face to meet his gaze.

"No one will ever touch you again."

His words were hard and sure and she wanted to believe him. She did believe him because the fury in his eyes told her that he wasn't just trying to assure her. He was giving her his vow. He would do everything in his power to keep her safe, of that she had no doubt. But she knew that he wouldn't always be there. She had been attacked while he'd been away from home. While he'd been on an assignment. The time would come when he would have to leave again and he wouldn't be there to protect her.

"Oliver, I –"

"No, Felicity. I promise you, you have nothing to be afraid of. No one will _ever_ hurt you, do you understand me?"

She closed her eyes, sinking further into his arms where they were wrapped around her. Neither of them registered that someone else had stepped into the room until a throat was cleared behind them.

"Leave us alone, Tommy," Oliver rumbled.

Felicity didn't ask how he knew it was his brother who'd entered without turning to look at him. She wondered why, however, her husband didn't seem pleased to see his brother. And then snippets of a conversation came back to her. Anxiety invaded and she drew herself out of Oliver's embrace to stare at her brother-in-law.

"What is it, Tommy?"

"Hey, Kid. How are you doing? You feeling okay?"

She shrugged, "Considering that I got the living shit beat out of me a couple of days ago, I'm good. What are you doing here?"

Tommy shifted uncomfortably, carded his fingers through his dark hair, and cast a hesitant glance at Oliver. She could sense the tension between them. She would talk to Oliver later, preferably when they were home, but for now, she gestured toward his brother.

"Go. It's fine. I'll be here when you come back."

He hesitated. His eyes stayed locked on her face. There was something in his expression that rattled her, something she didn't quite recognize. And mixed with that unknown expression was one of guilt. She thought back to the pieces of conversation she'd heard in unconsciousness.

 _"They were in my house! He nearly killed my wife!"_

The words had been harsh, a hoarse shout of anger, but it wasn't the words themselves that concerned her. It was the familiarity that she heard in them. The way that Oliver spoke of the person who'd attacked her. _He_ nearly killed her. The way he'd spoken, it was as if Oliver knew exactly who _he_ was. He was keeping something from her and the moment that he returned from his conversation with Tommy, he was going to tell her.

* * *

"How did she get away, Ollie? He wouldn't have let her go, so how in the hell did she get away from him?"

Oliver paced away from his brother. The air was expelled from his lungs on a harsh breath as his fingers sifted through his hair. He cast a weary glance around the deserted hospital corridor.

"My _cosaint_."

Tommy stared at him wordlessly. The question echoed in the silence around them. Oliver stood firm, his back straight, shoulders braced.

"I left _Bás_ for her. To protect her."

Still his brother remained silent. The lack of communication only added to his frustration and Oliver paced away from him again.

They were alone outside of her hospital room. The hallways were quiet at such a late hour but he knew as well as Tommy that there were ears everywhere. That every bit of their conversation would be heard.

"I couldn't take the chance. I couldn't leave her alone."

He wasn't sure if he was justifying his actions to his brother or to himself.

Oliver knew that leaving his weapon with anyone, even his wife, was against protocol. He understood what could come of the decision that he'd made. But as the image of Felicity bloody and unconscious – the way he'd found her -in their bedroom invaded his senses, he couldn't have cared less about the consequences. The _cosaint_ had saved Felicity's life.

"She shouldn't have even been able to control it."

He shook his head, "I wasn't sure if she'd be able to or not. I didn't know how _Bás_ would respond to her but I –"

Tommy settled a hand on his shoulder and cut him off.

"I know what Felicity means to you, Ollie. You don't have to explain anything to me. But, shit man, are you sure you know what you're doing? Leaving your weapon with her? You're bringing trouble straight to her. And what would've happened if he'd gotten a hold of it? What would've happened if _Bás_ hadn't bent to Felicity's will? He could've killed her and taken your _cosaint_ all at the same time."

Oliver bowed his head and cursed under his breath.

"You don't think I didn't consider that? Damn it, Tommy, I considered everything! Every option! What was I supposed to do?" he growled.

He jerked away from his brother's touch, stalking away.

He avoided returning to Felicity's room. She wanted answers. She would ask and he would have no choice but to respond and to do so truthfully. He wasn't ready yet. He didn't want to reveal his true nature. He didn't want to ruin the image that she had of him. He wasn't the man that she believed him to be and - Marked though they may be - he didn't want her to walk away from what they had. He couldn't stand the thought of losing her.

"Why is this happening? Why now?"

"Because they know what you are."

Oliver found himself on the hospital's rooftop. He did not turn at the sound of a voice behind him. He didn't need to.

"They know that I'm Marked?"

"They do. And they have discovered that your wife is your weakness, Oliver. They will use her to draw you out. They will use her as a catalyst to bring about a war we have avoided for millennia. You must not let that happen."

He turned to the man behind him then.

"What do you expect me to do, Malcolm? If you think for a second I'm going to walk away from Felicity –"

A hand was lifted to silence him. He was beginning to find that particular interruption annoying.

"I would not ask you to leave her. You are Marked and not even I can interfere. You are destined for a life with Felicity at your side and while I cannot begin to understand the intensity with which you love her, I can ask one thing of you, Oliver Queen. Take caution. She is important in the future that has been laid out before you and I pray that you understand just how vital her role is."

He watched Malcolm with a mixture of concern and curiosity roiling inside of him. He wasn't being instructed to leave his wife, for which he was thankful, but the fact that the archangel himself knew that he was Marked surprised him. In the time since he and Felicity had found one another, it had never been addressed. Nor had their marriage. It was as if everyone who mattered had turned a blind eye to their situation.

"How long have you known?"

Malcolm's mouth pulled up into a slight smirk.

"Longer than you have, certainly. Did you really think that we couldn't have sensed a difference in you, Oliver? That we did not know who you would become?"

He felt somewhat like an errant child under the gaze of the other man.

"And you don't find it to be a problem? The fact that I am Marked? Married?"

Malcolm shrugged, the gesture seeming out of place, and said, "As of now, it is not a problem. I will, however, caution you again to take care, Oliver. You must remember who you are first and foremost. While we know that Felicity is a vital part of your future, you must mind the fact that you have a duty here that cannot be overlooked."

He tried not to let the other man's words affect him but he felt his hackles rise almost immediately. There was no direct threat in his warning but Oliver was aware of the undertone.

"I am well aware of my duties, Malcolm. I have never wavered in a mission, have never hesitated. I am the same soldier that I was prior to my life with Felicity."

Malcolm tipped his head in acknowledgment, "We have been watching. We are aware."

He had nothing more to say to the other man. He wanted to get back to Felicity. He needed to see her. To take her home.

"As always, it's been a pleasure, Malcolm. Thanks for the warning."

Oliver knew he had failed to rein in his sarcasm but the other man didn't seem to mind. He tipped his head again, this time in a wordless goodbye, before he spread his wings and soared away from the roof. Oliver watched until he had disappeared into the night sky.

The angels knew of Felicity. They knew that he was Marked and – whether he wanted to admit it or not – the archangel had threatened him. Had threatened them. If he hadn't been paranoid before, he sure as hell was now.


	8. Chapter Seven

**A/N:** It's Tuesday so that means a new chapter! I feel like I might be losing everyone with this story … But I promise you that answers are coming! Bear with me! All those questions about Oliver and what he does (if it isn't sort of obvious) will be answered soon, both for you as the reader and for Felicity! She isn't in the dark forever, I swear.

To everyone who is sticking with me, thank you so much for reading and reviewing / favoriting and so on. I greatly appreciate. And, of course, to my beta westernbeauty, you rock!

 **Mark of the Angel**

Felicity traced the lines of the tattoo with interest. Clearly she had seen it before, many times over and from many different angles, but she had never gotten an explanation from her husband as to its origin.

The heat and humidity of the late afternoon filled their small cabin. They were stretched out on their sofa, Oliver's head resting in her lap, both of them in a state of semi-undress. She'd barely forced herself to don a thin tank-top and cotton panties as the day's temperature had risen. Two days after being discharged from the hospital and they'd hardly left the house. Now, after doing nothing beyond reading and checking on the website and playing with Yoda, she sat with her bare feet propped on the coffee table while Oliver dozed next to her.

"Babe?"

"Hmm?"

"Why wings?"

It was a question she had wanted to ask for as long as she'd known him. And she had. Repeatedly. But he had always found a way to avoid answering. It was always, she thought, the same tactic used to distract her. She smirked, her face heating further as she remembered the last time she'd thought to ask about the tattoo. She'd ended up naked and sweaty and too damn tired to remember what they'd been talking about or to protest at his ploy. Not that she would've. Sex with her husband was her favorite kind of distraction.

He sighed, "It doesn't matter, Felicity. They're just… they don't mean anything."

She felt the lie as deeply as she heard it. The muscles in his back tensed beneath her fingers and she paused in her ministrations.

If he hadn't had her pinned in place with the weight of his body, she would've shoved to her feet and strode away from him. Instead, she slid her hand to his shoulder and pinched a little harder than necessary.

She had had so many questions in the hospital, questions that had been left unanswered. She knew that it was partly her fault. He had returned to her room with anger pouring off of him and she had let it sway her. He had collapsed into the chair at her bedside that night, clasped both of her hands in his, and rested his forehead against them where they lay near her hip. Whatever was bothering him, she could sense that it was serious and what she needed him to tell her could wait. At least for a little while. At least until she was home.

She had given him enough time.

"You're hiding something. I want to know what it is. I want you to tell me."

He shifted around until he was lying on his back and she was looking down into his captivating blue eyes. They were haunted as he stared up at her.

"I heard you, you know," she confessed, "You and Tommy. I heard you talking about the attack. You sounded like you know him, Oliver. Like the man who attacked me was familiar to you. So what the hell aren't you telling me? Does this have something to do with your work? Is he – is he… I don't know because I don't even know what you do!"

He sat up and tried to draw her into his side but she pulled away.

"I want the truth, Oliver. Now."

"Felicity…"

"No, Oliver. The truth. And you know that I'll know if you're lying."

He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. Felicity forced herself to keep her eyes above his shoulders. They'd been married long enough that she shouldn't still melt a little at the sight of his bare chest. She shouldn't, but she did.

"I have an idea of who it was," he told her, "I don't know for sure. Tommy is – Tommy is looking into it."

"Who do you think he is?"

"A criminal. That's all you need to know."

She bit the inside of her cheek.

"Quit being evasive, Oliver. Tell me what you know."

He shook his head, frustrated, and turned away from her.

Her heart was in her throat as she waited for his explanation. Over the course of their relationship they'd never really had secrets. She was an open book, her mind and her heart trusting him from the first moment without question. Before Oliver, she had locked her secrets in a dark corner of her soul, unwilling to give anyone even a glimpse of who she really was. But Oliver knew. He saw her and from the very beginning, she had felt compelled to be completely honest with him.

Felicity understood that there were things that he couldn't tell her, things about his job that he hadn't been willing to share. She had assumed that it was dangerous, the work that he and Tommy did, and that that was his reason for keeping it from her. And she had been willing to accept that – she had accepted it for years – but that had been before.

His work had always been the one topic that he deviated from, the one thing he kept her separate from, and she'd allowed it. She'd allowed it because the rest of him – his thoughts and emotions, his hidden desires – had all been laid open for her. She'd given him leeway with the topic of his assignments for a long time. Too long, it seemed. And while she had always wondered here and there about what exactly he did, she'd never been overcome with a need to ask him about it. At least until she'd felt him holding back, until her husband had lied outright to her.

"Tell me about your job."

He hesitated.

"Oliver, please, tell me."

He made a noise, something between a groan and a growl, and to Felicity, it sounded pained. He shoved to his feet and paced away from her. He didn't go far and she drew her knees to her chest, watching him prowl the length of their small living space.

"We protect people. Tommy and I. Our team."

"Like a security detail? Bodyguards?"

He shrugged, "In a way."

"Who do you work for?"

She watched as he took a breath, saw the way his chest rose and fell, and the next words he spoke seemed to be wrenched from his throat.

"I can't. I can't, love."

Felicity didn't understand. From where she sat, it looked as if every breath that Oliver took pained him. His mouth was set in a hard line, his hands fisted at his sides. It was as if something inside of him was trying to stem the flow of his words and she unfurled from her place on the sofa, padding across the room until she was standing right in front of him. Oliver eyed her warily as she approached.

"You can, Oliver. You can tell me anything. What's going on?"

She placed her open palm against his chest and she felt his muscles jump under her touch. He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes wide, and shook his head.

"Felicity, please, don't. I – I can't."

He was struggling, fighting his urge to tell her the truth, knowing that he should. She had never seen him so distressed. It was clear that withholding information from her was not what he wanted, that it was physically hurting him, but something was stopping him.

"Why? Why can't you tell me?"

"It's too dangerous. Please."

She slid her hand from his chest to his waist, winding both arms around him, and rested her forehead against his too-warm skin.

"Okay, okay," she whispered, feeling him relax slowly in her embrace, "But I don't like this. I don't like being lied to."

"I'm sorry. I hate that I can't tell you but I –"

He ground his teeth together in a way that made Felicity's jaw ache. She brushed her fingertips soothingly along his spine.

"Just promise me that - when it's safe - you'll tell me."

His chest expanded on a sigh and his chin settled on top of her head. His arms came around her, gathering her close.

"I'll tell you, Felicity. When the time comes, I'll tell you."

* * *

She sat on the small porch that Oliver had built on the back of their cabin the first summer they'd lived there. She had fallen in love with the place the moment she'd stepped foot through the door but the wilderness around her had called to her and the house hadn't had anything in the way of outdoor living space when they'd moved in. It hadn't taken much prodding on her part for Oliver to bestow her with the porch and the comfortable patio chairs.

"Yeah, Thea, I got the file."

She was saying, only half-listening to her friend and colleague as she spoke. Oliver was out in the backyard, dragging the lawnmower from the shed and rummaging around for a can of gasoline. They hadn't talked much since their conversation earlier in the day. Tension still ran thickly between them and she hadn't been able to ignore the fact that he was withdrawn and quiet. She needed to know the truth. She needed to know why Oliver's job had put her life in danger. But she wasn't willing to damage him to get answers. He'd clearly been shaken by her prodding.

"Felicity? Hey, are you listening?"

She shook her head, forcing her eyes away from her husband.

"I'm sorry, Thea. What were you saying?"

Thea sighed, "Oliver's there isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Is he shirtless?"'

Felicity glanced up at him again. He was most definitely shirtless. But that hadn't been why she was distracted. It was why she was now, she thought, eyeing him as he bent to pull the choke for the lawnmower.

"Maybe."

Thea laughed.

"Do I need to let you go?" she teased, "I can call back later. Or you can call me. When you're a little less… distracted."

Felicity rolled her eyes, "It's fine, Thea. What were you saying?"

She got to her feet and made her way inside, taking in the new information that Thea was giving her. Her colleague had tracked down three more of the Marked and had been able to get enough information from them to determine that they fit the pattern. They'd each lost their biological mother in childbirth.

"I was thinking, most of the people on the site are more comfortable talking to you than anyone else. You've been the mediator since day one. I wonder how many of them would be willing to at least confirm for us if their mothers died when they were born. You could post a master comment and just ask people to contact you personally if they didn't want the information in a public post on the site. It would give us more to go on."

Felicity nodded, pouring a glass of orange juice for herself and carrying it to the living room. She settled in her desk chair and shooed Yoda from his spot on top of her closed laptop. He gave her his usually attitude at being dismissed but she ran her hand across his back, making his tail swish before he hopped to the floor.

"It's a good idea. I'll see what I can find out."

She was met with silence from Thea and for some reason, the lack of follow-up caused a knot to form in her stomach.

"Can I ask you a personal question, Felicity?"

She nodded, "Sure."

"You've never really told me about your sister. I know you're doing all of this for her, because you feel like the Mark is the reason that she died… but what happened to her, Felicity?"

Felicity sighed, sipping her juice, and tucked her feet beneath her. She had lied to Thea the first time she'd met her. It had been a lie she'd built on, one she hadn't intended to tell but that she couldn't back out of. Telling Thea the truth had crossed her mind. She'd mulled it over a dozen times in the two years that they'd been friends. And it wasn't that she didn't trust her, she did. But admitting that she and Oliver were Marked would open the door for more questions than Felicity was willing to answer.

"She – she died after her match killed himself. It was like… it was like she couldn't live without him. Like it wasn't physically possible for her to go on with her life after he was gone."

It was a story that Felicity had heard over and over, words she'd read on her computer screen, testimonials from others who had lost someone close to them. Someone who was Marked. It was another mystery that they'd yet to unravel. What was it about being Marked that tied two people together so severely that they literally couldn't live without each other? Is that what would happen to her if she lost Oliver? If he died, would she find a way to take her own life or would some mysterious illness take her? The thought caused goose bumps to erupt along her arms and she shuddered.

"How old was she?"

Felicity worried her lip between her teeth and spit out yet another lie.

"Seventeen. She was – she was beside herself when she lost him."

It couldn't be helped. Her eyes wandered to the French doors at the back of the house. She could see Oliver out in the yard, the late evening sun beginning to set behind the trees, sweat coating his naked chest and arms. Her heart thudded rapidly against her sternum as she plagued herself with thoughts of losing him.

"I'm sorry, Felicity," Thea said softly, "It must've been horrible. But I… you've never told me, did your mom die during childbirth?"

Felicity started, cursing internally, and let her head fall against the back of the couch. She closed her eyes. The lie she'd built was getting out of control.

"Yes."

She should've told her no. She should've let Thea know that her theory about the birth mothers was wrong, that it couldn't possibly be true, but there was a small, niggling thought at the back of Felicity's mind that pushed her to lie about this. Because that feeling was telling her that it wasn't a lie. Her mother must have died, her biological mother, but that thought left her with a million questions. Had the life she'd known really been a lie? And if so, who was the woman who raised her?

"Listen, Thea, I'm sorry, but I've got to go."

She said a quick goodbye before she dropped her phone on the coffee table. Padding out to the porch again, she leaned against the rail and waited for Oliver to notice her there. When he did, he stopped, cutting the motor on the lawnmower and crossed the yard to reach her.

"Hi."

"Hey."

He took her into his arms and she didn't protest at the dampness of his skin.

"What's wrong?"

She sighed, looking up into the deep blue eyes she fell headlong into the first time they met. She hadn't yet told him about Thea's discovery. She hadn't had the chance before she was attacked and after – after she had been more concerned with finding out what he knew about the man who had nearly killed her.

"Oliver, how did your mother die?"

He wasn't fazed by the question. He shrugged and gave her an honest answer, "When I was born. Complications of some kind. Why?"

She dropped her forehead against his chest and sucked air sharply into her lungs.

"Thea… Thea thinks she's figured out a common denominator for the Marked. Almost every person that we've discovered with the Mark has lost their mother during childbirth. We haven't confirmed it with everyone but there's a good percentage of the group that we know fit in that category."

"But you don't."

She nodded, "I know."

"Felicity, if that's true, if being Marked is a birthright only of those whose mothers died giving birth to them, then why would you –"

He slipped his finger beneath her chin and lifted her face away from his chest. She saw the understanding in his eyes, saw the truth register there.

"Your mother –"

"Apparently isn't my actual mother."

His hold on her tightened and he lifted her off of her feet, settling her on the porch rail, and stepped between her knees.

"What does that mean?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. I was adopted, maybe? But she never… no one ever said anything. And my grandmother was around a lot when I was really young. Why wouldn't they have told me?"

"Where is your mother now?"

"Boston, I guess. I don't know. It's been years since I've talked to her. Since I – since I ran."

Oliver's hands were on her waist, his fingers skimming across the soft skin beneath the hem of her tank-top. She focused on the little twinges of electricity that seemed to emanate between them, allowing the rhythm he'd chosen to calm her nerves.

"We can go looking for her," he told her, "If that's what you need. If you need to know what happened, who she is, we can find her."

Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer. She set her chin on his shoulder, pressing her face into his neck. She let the warmth of his body blanket her.

"I think… I need to know, Oliver. I need to know where I came from."

She had spent years wondering about her mother, about how the woman who had given birth to her could stand by while her daughter was treated as if she was worthless. As if her life meant nothing. Because that was what it had been like. Her mom had kept a rotation of men in her life, none of them any better than the last, and they had treated Felicity like a stray. And as she had gotten older, it had only gotten worse. Which was why she'd run.

"Felicity, look at me."

She did as he requested, her heart beating out an uneven staccato in her chest. Just thinking about her childhood made her stomach roil.

"You got yourself out," he reminded her, "You saved yourself. You are the strongest person that I know, love. Your mom can't hurt you anymore."

She scoffed.

"That woman isn't my mother, apparently, so who knows what kind of damage she'll inflict when she finally tells me the truth. Because like it or not, she's going to. And I don't know how strong I am. I mean, whoever attacked me the other day proved that I'm not as strong as you think I am."

He tangled his fingers in her hair, careful of her injuries, and brushed his lips across her forehead.

"He could've killed you. He almost did. But you got away."

She wasn't exactly sure how that had happened actually. Her memory of that night was still fuzzy. She had a vague recollection of the fear she'd felt and the bruises on her throat were proof that her life had certainly been threatened. But how she'd managed to escape her attacker, she didn't know.

A vivid image of Yoda sitting beneath their bed, his large eyes bright in the darkness, struck her suddenly. He had looked at her as if to say, _what are you waiting for, Mom? Get up._ But the image didn't clarify anything. Her brain was too muddled. She did remember something else, another detail that she wondered if she'd made up. She remembered an odd tingling sensation that had burst in her palm, like she'd grabbed a live wire, and the phantom feeling caused her fingers to flex against Oliver's chest. She shook her head, dislodging the headache she'd given herself trying to bring the memories back, and looked up at her husband.

"Are you done out here?"

He was still shirtless – something she always appreciated – and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin. Her thighs where warm where he stood between them. The athletic shorts he wore hung low on his hips, giving her a glimpse of the trail of hair that disappeared beneath the waistband. Heat spiked inside of her. She let her fingers slid over his skin, down the smooth planes of his chest and over the ridges of his abdomen, and peppered kisses across his collarbone.

The hand on her hip flexed, fingers digging into her flesh, and he sighed heavily.

Their argument from that morning, all talk of her mother and the man who had attacked her where pushed aside. She didn't want to think about anything anymore. The man she'd married was utterly distracting and, at that very moment, a distraction was exactly what Felicity needed. She wrapped her legs around his waist and he lifted her into his arms.

"We can start looking tomorrow."

She nuzzled her nose into the crook of his neck and nipped at his Adam's apple. Her mind was focused on one thing and one thing only.

"Looking for what?" she muttered.

Oliver chuckled, hoisting her higher, and sealed his mouth to hers.


	9. The Tenth Year - Again

**A/N:** This chapter is an additional interlude. A leap forward to the tenth year (taking place on the same timeline as the prologue). Hopefully it will ease some concerns about where this fic is headed. I promised you that Felicity would get answers (as will all of you) and I will probably do at least one more of these as the story progresses. Fingers crossed this doesn't confuse anyone…

 **The Tenth Year**

Bás was still where it rested on the countertop beside her. Oliver hadn't once tried to reclaim the weapon from her. Whether he knew her or not, their bond still existed. They were Marked, their souls entwined, and the trust between them was unbreakable. He knew that she could control the staff and he understood the implications of that. He knew what it said of their connection.

Felicity scraped eggs from the pan onto two plates and carried them to the table. Oliver took a sip of his coffee as he eyed the food she was offering.

"I'm going to make an assumption here and say that I generally cook for us?"

She rolled her eyes, "I cook. Sometimes. When I have to."

Oliver chuckled, shaking his head, and dug into his breakfast.

She sat across from him, coffee mug clutched in between both hands, and let her own food grow cold as she watched him.

The vice that had been clamped around her heart for nearly a year hadn't lessened. The man across from her was most definitely her husband. In appearance, in mood, in manner. He was her Oliver but at the same time, he wasn't. Because he couldn't remember her. He couldn't remember their years together, the words they'd spoken, the vows they'd exchanged, the family that they'd had.

A new pain clutched her heart and Felicity blinked tears from her eyes.

Their little girl was safe with Thea. She would be protected by her aunt. But Oliver didn't know that she existed, he didn't know that he was a father. He had no idea that their daughter had been the catalyst for the battle that they were currently embedded in. The daughter of an angel and a human with angelic origins, Artemis Queen was destined for greatness before she was even born.

 _We got married today. I am officially Felicity Meghan Queen and it feels… incredible. For the first time in my life, I feel free. I've tied myself to this man, this man who bears my Mark, and instead of being tethered, I'm free. I don't know how to explain it. It just is._

She left Oliver for just a moment to take a quick shower and dress in the cabin's small bathroom. When she returned, he was where she'd left him at the table. Bás sat on the smooth wooden surface. It vibrated with barely restrained energy.

"How did you end up with this?"

He asked the question before she'd even stepped fully into the room.

"You left it with me. To protect me. Just like you left me Yoda."

He blinked up at her when she was beside him.

"Yoda?"

"Little orange furball? Oddly… intuitive for a cat?"

A corner of his mouth ticked up in a grin and a flutter of excitement danced around in her stomach. Felicity squashed it, sitting back down across from him. She ran her finger over the length of the weapon and its power settled.

"You named him Yoda? Man, I'd love to be able to remember how he reacted to that."

Felicity canted her head, waiting for Oliver to say more. He didn't.

"Does Tommy know about you?"

For some reason, the question caught her off-guard.

"Of course he does. He's your brother."

Oliver shrugged, "And?"

"And he's your best friend. You don't keep secrets from Tommy. _We_ don't. He's family."

He stared at her, his expression blank. His electric blue eyes stayed glued to her face and Felicity stared right back. She willed him to see something in her that would help him remember.

"Does he know you're here?"

"Yes."

"When was the last time that he checked on you?"

She shrugged, "He hasn't. He isn't supposed to know where I am. He's feigning ignorance to keep me safe."

"Safe from what, exactly?" Oliver asked, "Who are you running from?"

Felicity sighed, thinking back to their first meeting. To a time when she was always running. When she'd run from Cooper and straight into Oliver. Things had been so much easier then. At least then she'd understood the threat.

"If I knew, I'd be happy to tell you. But, sadly, I have no idea. I told you, I ran because you didn't come home. You – you always come home, Oliver, and when you didn't… I knew that I had to go. I had to get out."

"So you just disappeared? All on your own?"

Her gaze dropped to the table top that separated them as a knot formed in her chest. She clasped her hands together where they rested in her lap.

"I have a lot of experience being on my own. I know how to run. How to protect myself."

He let the subject drop, for which she was grateful, and got up from the table.

Her eyes followed him as he navigated the cramped space she'd been calling home. His gaze was critical as he looked around and Felicity was thankful that there wasn't anything personal for him to find. Everything of importance was stored on an encrypted laptop that was tucked between stacks of clothing in the wardrobe. That laptop was the only place that housed any evidence of their daughter, of the life that they'd brought into the world, and just thinking of Artemis caused a lump to form in her throat.

 _The house is secluded, set back on a long gravel drive, surrounded by tall pine trees. It's small inside but not too small. It's perfect for Oliver and I. And the view… the view from the backyard is the most stunning thing I've ever seen. When he told me he wanted to live so far north, I laughed at him. Massachusetts was the furthest north of the Mason-Dixon that I'd ever lived, the furthest east, of the Mississippi. I'd been happy in the southwest. As far from my shitty past as possible._

They were at a standstill. Oliver was on the other side of the room, arms crossed over his broad chest, standing silently as he watched her. She remained in her chair at the table, posture mirroring his with her arms crossed over her chest. He hadn't said anything after he'd finished surveying her space and Felicity couldn't decide if that was a good or bad.

She didn't know what the next step was. She couldn't work through how much she could tell him. He wouldn't hurt her, he wouldn't hurt Arti, but she had no way of knowing if he'd leave her again.

Whatever had taken Oliver from her ten months earlier, whatever that threat was, it was still out there. It still existed. And Felicity had no way of knowing how Oliver would respond when she finally had the courage to tell him the whole story. Or when he remembered on his own. She wasn't ready to lose him again. She hadn't really even gotten him back yet. But time was running out. She had to make him remember and she had to do it soon. If she ever wanted to see her baby girl again, she had to get her husband back.


	10. Chapter Eight

**A/N:** Just want to say a quick but heartfelt thank you to everyone who is reading this and to everyone who has reviewed. You guys are amazing and I really appreciate the feedback! Also, to my lovely beta **westernbeauty** , thanks again for all of your support! You rock.

 **The Third Year**

Felicity rolled down the window, cool autumn air whipping her hair into a frenzy as they drove towards town. One of Oliver's hands rested on her knee, the other on the steering wheel directing them toward the next in a never-ending line of leads.

They'd been searching for her mother for nearly a year. Endless searching between Oliver's assignments. And they'd found nothing. The home in Boston that she'd grown up in, the home she'd run away from, had been demolished and none of the neighbors had remembered Felicity or her mother. So here they were, heading into a small town in the southeastern corner of Michigan following what Felicity was sure was just another wild goose chase.

She sighed.

"What's wrong?"

She shrugged, "Nothing. Everything. I don't understand why we're stilling doing this, Oliver. I told you we could stop. That it wasn't a big deal anymore. I'm over this whole trying-to-find-out-who-I-am thing."

"And I know you well enough to know that you don't mean that, Felicity. At all."

She sighed again, leaning out of the window slightly and inhaling the chilly air. It didn't help to clear her head as she'd hoped, not entirely.

"Maybe Thea is wrong. Maybe my mother has nothing to do with the Mark."

The hand on her knee flexed, his fingers applying gentle pressure to her denim covered flesh, and Felicity glanced at her husband. Even though his eyes were shielded by dark sunglasses, she knew that they'd convey his concern. Concern because she's lost her damn mind, she thought darkly. She shook her head.

"But it's too much of a coincidence, right? Every single one of the Marked that have reached out to me through the site are in the same position. Each of them lost their mother as she was giving birth to them. That's over forty people now, Oliver. Forty! Too many for it to be a coincidence which means that the woman who raised me cannot possibly be my biological mother!"

One corner of his mouth ticked up in amusement and she knew that it wasn't directed at her minor freak-out, not necessarily. She knew she had developed a tendency to ramble. She took a deep breath.

"I'm not crazy, am I? This whole search isn't fruitless, is it?"

She tugged his hand free of her knee and laced her fingers with his. Oliver squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"You're not crazy, baby. And yes. Forty people… it's too many to be a coincidence. It would make sense that that fact is what connects all of the Marked that you've encountered. Especially given that it's literally the only commonality between all of us."

Even after months of listening to her doubt-filled rambles, Oliver's belief in Thea's lead had never wavered. And whenever Felicity decided that she was ready to give up and go home, his words encouraged her to keep searching.

"I miss Yoda," she mumbled, "And our house and our bed."

"Yoda is fine. Tommy won't let anything happen to him, Felicity. Besides, that damn cat has a mind of his own. He can take care of himself."

Felicity grinned at that. It was true. The little guy was resilient and too curious for his own good. But as she thought about how much she missed him, an image appeared unbidden in her mind. It was a memory of the night that she was attacked, one that she had relived over and over with the hope that she would somehow understand what had happened to her. She had seen him tucked away beneath the bed. She'd seen him watching her with large, round eyes and somewhere in the back of her mind she'd heard a voice calling out to her, urging her to get up. Urging her to take the object that he'd slid across the floor toward her near-lifeless fingers. An object that she hadn't remembered until that moment.

She gasped softly, her free hand coming up to cover her mouth.

"Felicity? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Yoda."

"What about him? What happened?"

Felicity shook her head as she tried to make sense of the images racing through her mind.

"The night that I was attacked," she began, "Yoda, he – I –"

Oliver steered the truck to the side of the road. They were still far enough from town that traffic was light and the particular stretch of blacktop they were traveling along was framed on either side by open fields. She heard him unbuckle his seatbelt, heard his door open and close, but it wasn't until he was opening her door and lifting her trembling hands from her lap that she realized he had moved.

"What are we doing? Why'd we stop?" she asked a little dazedly.

Oliver pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head. His gaze was intent as he gripped both of her hands. There was a determination in his expression that she rarely saw from him. It wasn't that he wasn't typically a decisive man. When her husband wanted something, when there was something that he thought that he should have, he went after it with confidence. Something like the way he had hunted her down simply because they were Marked and he thought – not that she didn't feel the same way now – that they were destined to be together. But the look in his eyes at that moment was one of intense resolve and it was something Felicity wasn't used to seeing. And certainly not directed at her.

"What do you remember from that night, Felicity?"

Her brain took a moment to play catch up.

Oliver had only once asked her about the night that she'd been attacked. It had been nearly a year since the night a madman had broken into their home and tried to kill her. And in that time, he'd only ever brought it up once. The night she'd finally come to in the hospital. And when she'd told him that she couldn't remember much of what had happened, Oliver had assured her that he and Tommy would take care of it. She realized as she sat there, her hands cradled in Oliver's while he loomed over her in the open door of the truck, that she had – unbelievably – never brought it up again. She'd never asked after the man who'd hurt her. Never questioned whether he and Tommy had found him. It was like she'd forgotten all about it.

Felicity started to shake her head, to tell Oliver that it was stupid – what she'd thought she heard – but a shot of electricity raced up her arm, making her squeak in surprise. Her fingers tingled.

"Felicity?"

Her heart jumped in her chest, skipping a handful of beats before slamming into overdrive. She stared down at their intertwined fingers.

"Yoda was under the bed that night. I was lying on the floor, he'd pinned me there and – and he'd hit my head a couple of times… and I looked over and Yoda was just sitting there, staring. Like – like he was waiting for me to do something. But I couldn't move. That man he – his hands were twisted in my hair and it was like he was trying to crush my skull."

She shuddered. Oliver shifted closer in response, his large body shielding her from the world outside of the truck, and the warmth that radiated off of him soothed her racing heart.

"I heard someone. In my head. At least, I thought I did. It was like Yoda was talking to me."

Oliver frowned, "What did he say?"

It didn't escape her notice that Oliver didn't bat an eye at the fact that she was convinced that their cat had actually been communicating with her. She'd come back to that.

"He… he wanted me to get up. And he pushed something into my hand. A weapon."

Oliver drew a sharp breath, his hold on her fingers becoming suddenly painful, and she tried to pull away.

"What kind of weapon?"

Felicity pulled against his hold. She wasn't sure where the desperation in Oliver's tone was coming from but it sent her into a panic. She struggled.

"I don't know! I don't know what it was, Oliver, but it worked! You're hurting me!"

He released her immediately, disgust with himself coloring his expression, and he stumbled away. He shoved his hands into his hair, pacing the length of the truck.

Felicity climbed out and took a step toward him, waiting until he turned back to her until she closed the distance between them. She placed her hand on his chest, over his heart, and felt the muscle hammering beneath her palm.

"Oliver, what's going on?"

He laid his hand over hers where it remained on his chest.

"I'm sorry, love, I didn't mean to hurt you. Are you alright?"

She nodded, "I'm fine. But you're scaring me. What's going on? Does this have something to do with your work? I thought you couldn't tell me anything, I thought –"

"Ask me about the weapon," he breathed suddenly, leaning in until his forehead touched hers. He closed his eyes.

"What?"

"I won't lie to you. Ask me about the _weapon._ "

Confusion spiked hot in her gut, mixed with a hell of a lot of curiosity, but she didn't get the chance to do as Oliver requested. The sound of his ringing phone cut through the otherwise silent space around them and the pounding bass of some rock song told her exactly who was calling. Felicity sighed.

"It's Tommy. You should answer that. You know he won't stop calling."

She stepped away, not getting far before Oliver's hand caught her by the elbow.

"I won't lie to you."

She stood for a long moment, rooted to the spot on the side of the road, and watched as he drew his phone from his pocket. Whatever it was that had happened the night she was attacked, Oliver knew more than he'd ever let on. And he was promising her the truth. He was promising her answers. But that meant she had to find the right questions to ask.

* * *

"I almost told her!" he growled, whirling on his brother and aiming a well-timed right hook at his head.

Tommy ducked and weaved, avoiding taking a blow with practiced ease.

"You wanted to?"

"More than anything."

Oliver struck out again, his fist ghosting just past the side of his brother's head, before he danced around him.

"You can't tell her, Ollie," Sara called from the side of the ring, "You're going to get her killed. And, not that I've actually met your wife or anything, but I like her. She keeps you sane. More than that, if she dies, well… you know, you do, too."

Oliver grunted and dodged a return blow from Tommy.

"Thank you, Sara, I know that."

She sighed, stepping onto the mat and coming between the two of them.

"I'm just saying that she's in enough danger as it is. They attacked her in your house, Oliver. It was obviously planned. They waited until you were called away and they attacked while she was vulnerable. You're lucky she survived at all. You can't tell her what you are, you can't tell her any of it. Besides, it's against the rules."

He dropped his stance and looked down at the petite blonde who – in a way he had never really considered – looked a little like his wife.

"Again, I'm well aware."

Sara's fists landed on her hips as she glared at him challengingly.

"Okay, so what the hell are you going to do about it?"

His growl of frustration echoed in the dimly lit space where they trained. He tore the gloves from his hands with his teeth, tossing them to the mat. He turned his back on his brother and his friend.

"I don't know! I promised Felicity that I wouldn't lie to her. If she asks about my _cosaint_ , hell if she asks about that damned cat, I'll tell her whatever she wants to know. I can't keep hiding things from her," he shouted, "She is my wife, my match, she knows me better than anyone and I can't keep hiding from her. She knows that something's wrong. She remembers part of the attack. The more it comes back to her, the more pieces she starts stringing together, the more questions she'll have. Felicity is inquisitive by nature, always has been, and if she gets her head wrapped around finding out what happened to her, I'll have to tell her everything."

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder. Tommy was at his back, supporting him without a word, and Oliver knew that no matter where things went with Felicity, his brother would always be there.

* * *

Felicity sat at the small table in their hotel room with her laptop propped open and her cell phone wedged between her shoulder and her ear.

"Yes, hi. I'm trying to reach Meredith Walker. This is the last known address that I have for her and –"

The woman on the other end cut her off before she could finish. She wasn't surprised. It was the fourth call in a row and she was having no luck.

She sighed, "No, no, that's okay, I understand. Thank you. Sorry to bother you."

Felicity disconnected the call.

She'd been holed up in the modest hotel room for nearly forty-eight hours. Oliver had taken Tommy's call and, after getting her checked in to the nearest (cleanest) hotel they could find, he'd gone off to another assignment. She hadn't argued or complained. She never did. But there had been something different in the way that they had said goodbye. There'd been a niggling of fear bouncing around in her skull as she'd held onto Oliver just a little longer than normal. And she'd made him promise. She'd made him promise that he would come back to her. And even though he'd promised that he would, she still couldn't fight the worry that churned her stomach.

She glanced at the face of her watch again. He'd said he'd be gone for two days, max, and he only had three hours to go in order to meet the deadline.

Felicity picked up her phone again and dialed Thea.

"Hey, there you are! I was expecting a call a few hours ago! Didn't you get my email?" her friend asked by way of greeting.

"No, sorry, I've been researching something else and I must've missed it. Another one?"

"Haslett and Monte Carlo."

"Monte Carlo, really? Huh. Sometimes I think it'd be nice to have a match in some exotic locale. Good excuse for a vacation, right?"

Thea laughed, "Absolutely. But hey, I wouldn't want to be Marked if all I got out of it was a cool vacation spot."

"How many does that put us at this week?" Felicity asked, moving from the table to the bed, computer resting in her lap as she sat cross-legged in the middle of the mattress.

Thea confirmed the number for her, a staggering six matches in just four days, and Felicity shook her head in amazement. In the three years since they'd built the website and began monitoring the submissions, they'd never had so many Marked pairs find one another in such a short amount of time. The total number of the Marked that they'd been able to connect had jumped from forty-four to fifty-six in under a week.

"How are you? How's the trip?"

Thea's question drew her back to the moment and Felicity found herself shrugging.

"It's okay. It's been kind of… kind of pointless, I guess. A lot of searching and gallivanting and we haven't really gotten anywhere."

She hadn't actually told Thea what it was that she and Oliver were searching for. As far as her friend knew, they were on the hunt for someone from Oliver's past and they had very little to go off of.

"Are you sure you don't want me to help? I can do some online digging, make some calls for you," Thea offered.

"I appreciate the offer, but no. Oliver doesn't want to get anyone else involved. Besides, he's off working at the moment so I've got plenty of time on my hands to research. He should be getting back any minute now, actually, so we'll be heading out first thing in the morning."

She'd barely gotten the words out when the door swung open and Oliver and Tommy came stumbling in.

She forced herself to stay calm even as she caught sight of the blood on Oliver's shirt and the ashen color of his face.

"Speak of. Oliver just walked in. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Text me if anything comes up."

"Sure thing. Have a good one, Felicity."

"You, too."

Felicity threw the phone down on her bed and scrambled across the room, barely catching Oliver's weight against her as Tommy kicked the door closed. She slipped an arm around her husband's waist and together, she and Tommy managed to get him into the small bathroom.

"Oliver, what happened?" she asked, blinking back sudden tears.

"I'm fine."

She shook her head and cast an angry glare at Tommy.

"What the hell happened to him? And why didn't you take him to a doctor?" she snapped.

Tommy opened his mouth to argue but Oliver stopped him.

"I'm fine, Felicity, really."

His voice was strained, no doubt a result of the pain she was sure he felt and Felicity sighed, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt and helping to pull it over his head. Her fingers skimmed over his abdomen, over the exact patch of skin that his blood-stained shirt had been covering, and she froze. There was barely a scratch marring his already scarred flesh.

"I don't – I don't get it. Are you okay? You were bleeding. A lot. And – and it's still warm, Oliver. The blood on your t-shirt is still warm."

He leaned against the bathroom sink. The look he exchanged with Tommy sent a cold chill skittering up her spine and when she turned to face her brother-in-law, he backed out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him.

"Felicity."

Oliver's hand touched her hip, tugging her gently toward him. She braced herself against his chest. He looked down at her, his expression guarded, and she knew that there was something he wasn't telling her. Something that he seemed to be having trouble with. They'd been here before. There'd always been one secret between them, one thing that Oliver had never been able to talk to her about, and that same thing was what had brought him home to her injured yet again.

"Let me guess? You can't tell me, right? It's work related so we can't talk about it."

He sighed heavily and held her tighter when she tried to back away.

"Felicity, don't. Don't run. I – I want to –"

He choked on the words and swallowed hard, his fingers flexing against her hip.

"I'll tell you. I'll tell you everything."

"When, Oliver?"

"Now."


	11. Chapter Nine

**A/N:** Again, thank you to everyone who is reading and taking the time to review. To my beta, westernbeauty, you are a life saver. Your support and encouragement means a lot. Thank you, thank you!

 **Mark of the Angel**

Felicity stared at Oliver. He stood across from her with his arms across his chest and she waited for the explanation he'd promised her.

"You have to ask."

She frowned.

"I'm sorry?"

Oliver sighed, scrubbing a hand over the scruff along his jaw.

"You – you have to ask me, Felicity. A direct question."

Felicity shook her head. The truth had been a long time coming and Oliver had promised her answers. But even after assuring her that he'd tell her everything, he was still making it difficult. He was still dancing around the truth of what he did, of who he was when he wasn't her husband.

"Fine. Who are you?"

He made a noise halfway between a growl and a sigh and if they'd been in any other situation, she would've been incredibly turned on by it.

"You know who I am, Felicity."

"I thought I did but –"

"My job, ask about my job."

She worried her lip between her teeth as she looked up at him. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his muscles strained as he stood there rigidly. It was obvious to her that – like every other time she'd tried to breach the subject of his job – Oliver was hesitant to tell her anything. But, she realized, it wasn't because he didn't _want_ her to know. She'd wondered each time he'd begun to tell her anything if there was something else holding him back.

"What are you? What – what is your job title?" she asked.

He took a breath and she watched his chest expand. She should've insisted that he put on a shirt.

"I'm a guardian. A _caomhnóir_."

"A guardian? And what do you guard, exactly?"

He looked past her then, his eyes finding something behind her to focus on. She waited for his answer and she knew that it would come. They didn't lie to one another. If a direction question was asked, it was answered. Not always in the capacity that she wanted, but Oliver didn't blatantly lie to her. Avoid her questions, be evasive, sure, but he would never blatantly lie to her.

"People. Those in need. People who aren't meant to die. We're assigned to protect those who've been targeted. If it isn't their time, then they're ours to protect."

She frowned, "Um, okay. So who do you work for? And – and what gives that person the right to decide who lives and who dies?"

She hadn't expected the question to physically affect him so when she watched a tremble race through him, she found herself sitting up a little straighter. Felicity reached a hand out to her husband, her fingers grazing along his forearm.

"Oliver?"

He turned his hand over so that they were palm to palm, their fingers intertwined, and she felt a spark race up her arm.

"I – It might be easier if I show you."

"What?"

He moved slowly, presenting her with his back, and Felicity couldn't help being reminded of the night she'd seen his Mark. And the first time she'd had the pleasure of glimpsing the intricately woven lines of his tattoo. His wings. Something inside of her flickered to life at the memory of that first night. It had been the first time she'd touched him and every nerve in her body had come to life the moment she'd drug her fingers around the lines.

Now he was standing in front of her, only a few inches separating her from the expanse of scarred flesh she'd had all to herself for the last three years, and Felicity found herself moving forward without thought. She lifted her hand to his back.

She pressed the tip of her finger to the arch across his shoulder blade and felt him shudder as she traced along the thick black ink. Her other hand moved to join the first, following the patterns that she'd memorized a long time ago, and as her fingers ghosted down either side of his ribcage Felicity felt heat waft off of him. She felt it lick across his skin and into her hands, scorching her in a way that she hadn't expected. Oliver was naturally warm, one of the many things that she loved about waking up beside him, but this was something else. Something much more intense.

"Oliver…"

The heat gusted, pushing her back, and Felicity stumbled. A startled gasped escaped her. The lines across his back that swooped and swayed were suddenly on fire. Literally.

"Oliver!"

The lines of the tattoo burned bright like the embers of a dying fire. Tiny wisps of smoke drifted from his skin and Felicity's hands flew to cover her mouth. The ground beneath her feet began to tremble, sending the few items sitting atop the dresser skittering across its surface. Her heart jumped into her throat and Felicity took another step back. She fell on the bed, a small gasp escaping her, just as the wings on her husband's back began to unfurl.

Wings. Honest-to-God, real wings materialized from Oliver's flesh, his tattoo coming to life before her eyes. Felicity was mesmerized. She couldn't look away, couldn't make herself be as afraid as she suspected she should've been. The wings, inky black feathers as dark as the lines on Oliver's skin had been, spanned the width of the room. They were massive. And elegant. And not the least bit frightening. To Felicity's own astonishment, she wasn't too shocked.

A gust of warm air brushed her skin as he moved, as his muscles contracted and a tremor ran through him, sending ripples through the glistening feathers.

Her breath caught in her throat.

Oliver was watching her in the mirror, taking in every nuance of her expression. He was waiting.

"I – I don't … Oh my god. Are you – are they," she couldn't make her mind process the multitude of questions that she wanted to asked, "Can I…"

She stumbled to her feet, her hands already outstretched in anticipation. But she stopped, finding his gaze in the mirror, waiting for permission. His body was tense once again, his shoulders stiff, but he tipped his head in acquiescence and she practically lurched toward him.

Her fingers skimmed gently along the upper crest of each wing. She began her exploration where they emerged from his back, set high on either side of his spine, centered between the blades of his shoulders. The feathers slid like silk beneath her fingertips and they were warm. He was warm. Intense heat – almost more than she could bear – emanated from him. She wondered idly if it hurt, dispatching the wings the way that he had. The smell of ash, of something burnt, clung to the air around them and filled the small motel room. She couldn't get the vision of his tattoo burning out of her mind. It had looked incredibly painful.

"Oliver…"

He trembled, the action causing another round of quaking in the room, and Felicity stepped closer.

She slipped her arms around his waist and pressed her front to his back. Her face was pillowed against soft feathers.

"A guardian," she mused, "You're a – an angel? A guardian angel."

Oliver huffed out a sound of disbelief. Or maybe it was astonishment, she couldn't be sure. His hands came to rest over hers where they were folded across his abdomen.

"Why don't you sound more surprised? I thought you'd run. Or at least be… I don't know, shocked."

She shrugged, "I don't know."

"Felicity, I – I wasn't supposed to tell you. I wanted to. I've hated keeping this from you but I couldn't –"

"It's okay," she murmured, "I understand. Well, sort of. I mean, I'm sure there's some rule against revealing heavenly secrets to us mortals, right?"

She pulled away suddenly and Oliver's wings folded against his spine before they disappeared, fading slowly back into the lines of his tattoo. He turned to face her.

"Will you get in trouble? Are they – are they listening? Can they see us?"

Her voice shook as she glanced around the room, wondering if there was some presence there that she couldn't see. A spy. Someone watching every move that they made, ready to report back to a higher power that Oliver had failed to keep their secrets. For the first time since discovering exactly what her husband was, Felicity felt an inkling of fear. But not because of him, but rather for him.

Oliver shook his head, a small smile on his lips. He closed the distance between them and took her face in his hands.

"You're remarkable."

She blinked up at him, distracted.

"Thank you for remarking on it."

His eyes flickered to her mouth just a moment before his lips touched hers. Felicity responded immediately, opening to him and sighing when his tongue tangled with hers. Her arms came up around his neck, her fingers delving into the short strands of hair at the back of his head.

Oliver walked them backwards until the backs of her knees hit the mattress before he lay her down, covering her body with his own warm one.

"I still have questions," she said when he moved his kissed from her lips to the slope of her neck.

Her hands slid down his back, her nails scraping lightly along his shoulders. He hissed in response and pressed her farther into the mattress.

"Later. I can ask them later."

* * *

Felicity lay with her head on Oliver's shoulder her fingers trailing along the inside of his arm where it was wrapped around her. Her heart hadn't quite settled yet and her body still tingled from the last orgasm he'd graced her with. They'd made love with a new kind of passion, with an intensity that – she realized – only came from being completely free of secrets. She would never have run from Oliver. Their lives where overlapped and entangled in a way that made it impossible to tell who was who. Because they weren't separate people, not entirely.

"So … so Tommy is one of you?" she asked.

"He is."

"How did – how did it happen? I mean, if you're an angel then that means you died, right?"

He sighed, lifting his hand to her hair and twisting the loose strands around his fingers.

"We were very young, Tommy and I. He was four, I was barely two. Our family was wealthy, Felicity. Prominent in Starling City. The whole family was out on our yacht when a freak storm hit. The yacht capsized. Our father and his new wife survived but Tommy and I… we both drowned."

"Oliver, I…"

"It was a long time ago. Longer than you can even imagine. But because of how young we were at the time, we were awarded a different fate. We were raised above to become _caomhnóir,_ a league of warriors trained to protect the human race. We're assigned charges. Those that we are assigned to protect for one reason or another. Often times, the mortals that we guard have a purpose. They have a destiny that – should their lives end prematurely – it would change the course of the world."

Felicity propped her chin on his chest and looked at him with what she could only describe as wonder.

"Your missions? You guys are off saving lives? Making sure the rest of the population stays on track by saving these people who – who, what? Who are somehow going to change the world?"

Oliver shrugged, "It doesn't always work like that. The person that we're saving may just be a catalyst to something bigger. We could be charged with protecting a woman who's going to be the mother of the next Nelson Mandela or Mother Teresa."

She shook her head in disbelief. Her husband, the man she'd had by her side for more than three years, was an _angel._ A real angel. She wondered what it meant for them. They'd lived a relatively normal life for as long as they'd known each other, even being Marked, and Felicity wondered what – if anything – would change.

"I have so many questions."

Oliver chuckled, "Wouldn't be you if you didn't."

She grinned.

"Are you – are we in trouble? Now that you've told me, they won't take you away will they?"

His fingers tangled in her hair and he shook his head.

"No, Love, they won't do anything so drastic. There's no way for them to know that I've told you. Our life isn't under a microscope, it never has been. Even though I am what I am –"

"An angel."

He sighed, "Yes. Even though I'm an angel and you're mortal, they aren't watching us every minute of every day. Do they know about you? Do they know that we're married? Yes. But they've never tried to interfere and unless we do something to give them a reason, then they won't."

"Oh."

"But I don't think we should tell anyone that you know. Not even Tommy."

Felicity snorted, "Who would I tell? Who would believe me?"

"I know that Thea is your friend and that she's your partner is finding the Marked, but you can't tell her."

She sat up then, tugging a blanket from the foot of the bed around her shoulders. Oliver followed suit, sitting opposite her with his back to the headboard. Their legs remained intertwined between them.

"I didn't even think of telling Thea, to be honest. She's my friend, yes, but… but she doesn't even know that we're Marked. And I don't know that I'd ever tell her."

Oliver reached for her hand, his thumb skimming over the Mark on the inside of her wrist.

"Are there a lot of your kind who are Marked?"

For a long moment he sat across from her completely still, his gaze locked on the crude arrow etched into the thin skin of her wrist. Goosebumps broke out along her naked flesh and she snuggled a further into the blanket. There was something in his expression as she waited for him to respond that sent an shiver down her spine. It wasn't the good kind, the kind she felt when he looked at her with heat in his blue eyes, when she knew that he wanted her. She rolled her wrist and laced their fingers together.

"I'm the only one."

"What? The – you're the only one? There are no other angels who bear the Mark?"

It hadn't been the response she'd expected. For a moment she'd let herself believe that maybe – maybe – it wasn't the fact that their mothers had died during childbirth that left people with the Mark. The hope had flared in her chest the moment she'd seen his wings come to life. It had been an answer, one that had been less painful to swallow, because if Oliver being was an angel and that had something to do with their Marks, it meant that the woman who had raised her really was her mother. It meant that she hadn't been lied to. That she hadn't been betrayed for her entire life.

"I'm an anomaly. Even among the supernatural. I'm different."

Felicity swallowed hard.

"Do – do they know? About your Mark? About me?"

Oliver nodded, "Some do. Tommy does, obviously. But there are few others. Apparently there'd been whisperings floating around for centuries that one of our kind was Marked but no one knew for sure."

Her eyes widened, "Centuries? Oliver, how … how old are you?"

"Two hundred and seventy six. But, if we're getting technical, I stopped aging when I hit thirty."

Felicity pulled her hand from his grasp and fell backwards on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her husband – a man she'd been having sex with for more than three years - was two hundred and fifty three years her senior. She tried not to cringe. Oliver moved until he was braced on his forearms above her, his smug smile firmly in place. She rolled her eyes and smacked his shoulder.

"You're – you're so old!"

He shook his head, "It's never bothered you before."

He dropped his weight on her, shifting just enough so that he wasn't crushing her, and bracketed her head between his forearms. He bumped his nose against hers.

"I've got another question."

She worried bit the inside of her cheek and looked away, feeling her face heat again. She wasn't sure when she'd suddenly become shy around him. Normally her brain-to-mouth filter was non-existent where her husband was concerned but Felicity felt herself holding back. It was a question that had been dancing around in the back of her mind since before they'd taken off on their adventure to find her mother. And it was a matter they'd only discussed once. In passing.

"What is it, Felicity?"

His fingertips stroked her face, encouraging her to look at him again.

"Can we have children? Are you… are we able to have kids? I know we've never really talked about it and I don't mean right this second, of course, because I'm on the pill and it'll take time and I don't know if I'm ready but -"

Felicity cut herself off, taking a deep breath, and met her husband's gaze.

Oliver gave her a soft smile, his eyes bright. He nodded.

"Whenever you're ready," he told him, "We can have as many children as we want, love."

"But you're dead, right? I mean, you're an angel and you _died_ so … so how is it possible?"

He shrugged, "No idea. But I know it is. There are others… children of angel and human parents, they exist. The nephilim are real."

Felicity shook her head, unsure of exactly how she felt about the idea of her children – _their children –_ being supernatural creatures. But she wanted them. She wanted children with Oliver. She wanted to know what it was like to have their baby growing inside of her. And even though she didn't think she was ready at that moment, she knew that the time would come when becoming parents would be the next step.

"I love you."

He brushed his nose with hers, closing his eyes.

"I love you, too."

His lips sealed over hers. The questions flitting around inside of her mind faded into the background. Her arms came up around his neck and she was lost.


	12. Chapter Ten

**A/N:** I'm being proactive and posting this before work. Now that the secret is out, I'm hoping we can get the ball rolling with these two and the life that they've clearly made for themselves. More answers are coming, I promise! Enjoy! Oh, and of course, to my lovely beta, westernbeauty, thank you for all of your help!

 **Mark of the Angel**

Felicity was turned in her seat, watching Oliver drive. He was focused on the darkened highway ahead of them but she knew that he could feel her eyes on him. One of his hands gripped the steering wheel while the other was entwined with hers. Their joined hands rested on her thigh.

It had been just over forty-eight hours since he'd shown her the truth of who he was. He'd changed her world in a matter of moments and yet, he hadn't. She knew that she should've been more shocked by Oliver's revelation. Anyone else would've gone into a full panic but, to Felicity, discovering that her husband was human actually made sense. Maybe she'd always known that he was different. Maybe there'd been an inkling that Oliver was something … more. More than a normal man. More than just another one of the Marked.

She shook her head at herself. She'd been more afraid when she'd been told that the small arrow on the inside of her wrist wasn't a birthmark but a Mark. The idea of being inherently tied to another human being had scared her more than finding out that her husband was an angel.

"You've been staring at me for the last fifty miles, Felicity. What are you thinking?"

They'd left their hotel in Michigan very early that morning and were heading toward Indianapolis.

She shrugged, "Lots of things. I have thoughts. A lot of thoughts."

He smirked, glancing at her, and waited for her to share those thoughts.

"You've let me do this whole finding-the-Marked-thing on my own all this time. But you're an angel. I mean, you work for the Man. The Woman? I'm not one hundred percent convinced on either. Not that it matters, of course, nbut –"

"Is there a question in there somewhere?"

She took a breath to recover from her ramble. Oliver's thumb drifted back and forth across her knuckles as he waited.

"Do you know more? Do you know if Thea's theory is true? Are all of the Marked the product of mothers who died in childbirth?"

He sighed and shrugged.

"I know some, but not much. I don't know if Thea is right. It's possible but I - The Marked are a mystery, love, even to the angels. We've heard stories for centuries, almost from the beginning, but just because we report to a higher power doesn't mean that we're all-knowing."

Felicity found herself pouting a little at that. She had hoped that he'd be able to shed some light on the mystery of why they were linked, of why their lives had been woven together so neatly. She had hoped that Oliver would be able to tell her why the Marked even existed.

"So what do you know? What haven't you told me?"

He hesitated, casting a sidelong glance in her direction, and expelled a loud breath.

"Have you or Thea found any accounts of the Marked being able to compel one another?" he asked.

Felicity frowned.

"Compel? You mean like mind control? Like vampires?"

Oliver scoffed, "Feeding off of human blood? Burning in the sunlight? Myths. Vampires don't exist, Felicity."

"Says the man who has wings tattooed on his back that come alive by literally burning through his flesh."

He grinned at her and she shook her head.

"No, I haven't… Wait. I – Maybe. There've been a few posts. Stories from the Marked about the things that they've experienced once they were linked up with their match. Things that aren't exactly … kosher. There is one that I remember specifically. A woman. Her match scared her. He – he was too intense and insistent on being with her constantly. She reached out to us because she wanted to know if there was a way for her to break the bond, if she could cut him off. He convinced her to quit her job. She loved her job. But she said that when he ordered her to do it, she had to. She was really scared of him."

Oliver's hold on her hand had tightened to the point of pain and she flexed her fingers until he relented.

"No one knows enough about the Marked to understand why they've been chosen or why they're paired. There are reasons that I worry about you doing this, love. Reasons why some of the Marked don't want to be found."

She lifted their joined hands to her lips, kissing his knuckles.

"I know, Oliver. Thea and I are careful, you know that. Now explain this to me in more detail please. The Marked have the ability to control each other?"

He sighed, "No, not – not control. The ability to compel is about suggestion. It's about being susceptible to your match's wants and needs, no matter how small. The Marked pairs bend to one another. Its why, most of the time, they fit so well together. The compulsions allow them to be attuned to their match."

"I'm sorry. Are you telling me that… that you can compel me to do things because – what? They make you happy?"

The playful, heated look he shot her made her face flush and she was glad that the interior of the truck was dark.

"You know what I mean! If I – if I demanded that you pull over right this min –"

"It doesn't work between us."

She frowned, "What?"

"I'm an angel, love. The only one who can command me to do anything is my creator."

"Oh."

"And I can't compel you, either. Not completely. It's more the power of suggestion. I can ask you to do things – or not do them – and you're more likely to agree with me. But I think it has more to do with being my wife than the Mark."

For a long moment she continued to stare at him. He hadn't released her hand and he continued to focus on the road. She wasn't sure how much longer it would be before they stopped for the night but she found that she wasn't tired. She had too many questions racing around in her mind to even consider sleep.

"All those times you've asked me to stay home," she muttered, eyes widening as the realization of what he'd said filtered through the jumble, "All those times you've asked me to stay home and keep the doors locked while you're on your –your missions, or whatever! You compelled me!"

Oliver shook his head, "I told you, I can't actually _compel_ you to do anything, Felicity. I ask you because I know that the act of doing so puts the suggestion in your head. It lets you feel what I'm feeling. My suggesting that you do anything only makes me vulnerable, not you, because it opens my emotions up to you. You know I don't want you going out when I'm gone because I worry. Losing you… losing you is the thing that I fear most in this world and if I'm not there to protect you, someone could hurt you."

She squeezed his hand and felt the truth in his words. She had never felt like she hadn't had a choice in the matter. Before leaving, when he asked her to remain safe in their home, she'd never felt as if she couldn't leave, just that she shouldn't. For his sake, not for her own. She didn't want him to worry. She didn't want to be a distraction for him while he was working. That was how she had rationalized her decision to keep her promise to him. There was no way he would've known if she'd gone outside, if she'd decided to see a movie or go shopping or just go for a walk. But she hadn't ever considered stepping foot outside without Oliver beside her.

"The night that I was attacked… who was he? The man that tried to kill me?"

His shoulders fell and for the first time in hours, he withdrew his hand from hers to scrub at the stubble on his face.

"I said that vampires aren't real. And they aren't. They're a human way of justifying evil in a physical form. The truth is, when a demonic soul leaves Hell, it takes a human host. And those demons, they want to destroy any light that exists in this world."

Her heart stopped beating for a full thirty seconds before taking off like a rocket in her chest. She wrapped her arms around her torso as a chill caressed her spine. Oliver gave her his hand back and she grabbed onto it with both of her own.

"That man was… was a demon?"

He nodded, "Yes. And he would've killed you if you hadn't had Bás there to protect you."

"What? What are you talking about?"

Oliver seemed to struggle for a moment to articulate a response and she wasn't sure if it was because he didn't know how to explain or if he wasn't supposed to. She'd watched him go through physical pain before as he fought not to tell her the truth.

"Bás is a weapon. A _cosaint_. The thing that you used to fight off the demon that attacked you is actually mine. It's the weapon I've trained with from the moment I was summoned. I've been leaving it in the house with you whenever Tommy and I go away. I wasn't sure at first if it would even respond to you but –"

"Oliver, baby, slow down please. I don't think I understand. When you say 'respond to me' what does that mean? It was like a staff of some kind, right? How is it supposed to respond?"

He steered them off the next exit, making a right onto a brightly lit street and pulled into the parking lot of a hotel chain she was familiar with. He cut the engine but stayed where he was, eyes staring straight ahead.

"Do you remember what it felt like when you picked it up? When you has Bás in your hands?"

It had been like a shot of electricity shooting through her arm, the short staff vibrating in her grip. And when she'd jammed it into the ribcage of her attacker, that electrical charge had exploded and she'd blacked out. She had assumed that she'd lost consciousness because of the man's hands around her throat.

"It – it was powerful. What I imagine it feels like it you stick a fork in an electrical outlet. Except… except there was no pain. It didn't hurt. It didn't exactly feel good but there was no pain."

Oliver sighed as he angled himself in his seat to face her. Both hands lifted to cradle her face and his blue eyes were dark as he stared at her.

"You shouldn't have been able to even touch it when it was charged," he explained, "The _cosaints_ that we're given are supposed to respond to us. Tommy can't control Bás. If he touches it, it's nothing more than a lifeless piece of steel and wood. And his responds the same to me. There's a piece of each of us in our _cosaint_ that guards it from being stolen and used against our kind. No one else should be able to use it as anything more than a weak bat. But it – it reacted to you, to your fear and your desperation. I can't explain why. Tommy – Tommy was pretty upset when I told him how you'd survived. Neither of us have ever heard of a human being able to garner that response from a _cosaint_."

Felicity blinked, sending a wave of tears cascading down her cheeks, and it surprised her. She wasn't even sure why she was crying. But there was something in Oliver's expression, in the way he held her so carefully, that frightened her. And, she realized, he was just as frightened as she was. His eyes were haunted.

"I – I was thinking of you. In the last few moments before Yoda pushed that thing into my hands, all I could think was that I was never going to see you again. That I wanted so badly to tell you one last time that I loved you. I don't know what happened or how I did what I did with your – your _cosaint_ , but I'm so glad that it worked."

He wiped her tears with his thumbs and pressed a hard kiss to her forehead. She closed her eyes and let him hold her.

"I still don't know why they came for you," he told her softly, "I thought it was because of me. I thought – I thought they were trying to hurt me. But for them to only attack that one time and never come back, it doesn't make sense."

Her fingers slipped into his hair, nails dragging along his scalp, and she rested her forehead against his.

"Whatever the reason, we'll figure it out. I'll do whatever I can to help. I want to learn, Oliver. I want to know everything that you can tell me about – about who you really are. About the world the way that you see it. And I want you to teach me how to fight, how to protect myself if they do come back. I want to be safe, with or without Bás to protect me."

* * *

They were stopped at a roadside diner just forty miles outside of Saint Louis when Oliver's phone rang. He sighed, setting his coffee cup down with a little more force than necessary, and glared at the screen. Tommy's face lit up the device and worry settled around her heart.

"You have to answer that, Oliver. You can't ignore work."

He swiped a finger across the screen before lifting it to his ear.

"Yeah?"

Felicity pushed her food around on her plate as she listened to Oliver's side of the conversation. Tommy never called just to chat. Every time her husband's phone rang, it was for one reason. Work was calling and he would be leaving her soon. She was used to it, had been growing used to it, until he'd revealed the truth of his job to her. Now the idea of watching him go left her with a knot in her stomach. He hadn't had to go yet, not since she'd found out, but Felicity knew that this time would be the hardest to bear.

He growled something at his brother before disconnecting the call and slamming the phone down on the table.

"Well?"

"Four days."

She sighed, "How do you always know how long it's going to take? I've always wondered that. You've never been wrong. Whenever you tell me you're going, you always know exactly how many days you're going to be gone and you haven't been wrong yet."

"Perk of the job," he mused, giving her a tight smile, "The ability to see into the future. It's how we know where to be and when to be there. We can't see it, of course, just management. But we go where we're told and we go when we're told and in turn, they at least tell us how long the assignment will take."

Felicity nodded absently, setting her fork aside, and lifted her own coffee to her lips. She took a long sip before she looked up at him.

"I think I should keep moving while you're away. My mother, the woman I thought was my mother, lived in Saint Louis for four years. It's possible I'll find something there. I can take the truck and investigate while you're working."

He shook his head, "No."

"Oliver –"

"No, damn it!"

His sharp tone made her jump in her seat. She felt the eyes of the other diner patrons on them. He'd never raised his voice to her. She understood that things were different now. Now that she knew what he was. Things were different and they were still changing. But he'd never yelled at her before and something in his expression left a sour taste in her mouth.

"You don't get to tell me what to do, Oliver. You've never had the right to control me. I understand why you ask me to stay locked away while you're working but I –"

He shook his head, "Please, Felicity, I – you don't understand. I can't tell you what's going to happen but I can tell you that you need to stay away from Saint Louis for a few days. If anything, I want you to go the other direction."

She blinked at him, "Your mission is in the city?"

He didn't respond but she didn't need him to. The answer was clear in his eyes.

"You could've just said so," she sighed, "You didn't need to yell at me."

Oliver shook his head, his hands reaching for hers across the table.

"I'm sorry, love. You're right. I have no right to control you and I don't want to. But I need you to be safe. I don't have time to train you like we talked about, not now. I have to meet Tommy in a couple of hours. So please, this is the last time I'll ask, but please stay inside. I'll check you into a hotel in Effingham. You'll be safe there and –"

"That's sixty miles the back the way we came, Oliver. Is – is it that bad? What's going to happen?"

He glanced around the diner to make sure they were out of earshot.

"A natural disaster. That's all I can say."

She worried her lip between her teeth. She didn't think she could stomach it if he told her more. It was enough to know he was afraid for her safety. She feared for his, too. He was an angel, yes, but was he indestructible? Did that mean that she would never really lose him? He'd come home with his fair share of injuries but they'd never been serious. He'd always been mostly healed by the time he came back to her.

"Okay. Let's head back to Effingham. But let's find a hotel with an indoor pool this time, please? I need something to do to keep me busy while you're gone and talking to Thea only takes up so much of my time."

They left money on the table to cover their check and headed for the truck. Oliver had barely shut her door for her before the sky opened up and a torrential downpour began. She laughed as he jogged around to the driver's side and climbed in. Water had soaked through his t-shirt in the few seconds he'd been stuck outside.

When she saw his expression, she sobered.

"I take it this rain isn't going to let up for four days or so?"

Oliver nodded stiffly.

"Something like that."

Felicity buckled her seatbelt and leaned forward, glancing up at the dark clouds overhead. That morning the sun had shown when they'd left Indianapolis and they hadn't hit any bad weather on the drive. But she understood how fastidious the weather could be in this part of the country. She'd never lived there but she watched the news. Massive snow storms, tornados and floods. Mother nature was a bitch in the Midwest and she could only wonder what was coming as Oliver steered them north away from Saint Louis.


	13. Chapter Eleven

**A/N: Again, huge thanks to everyone who is reading this and letting me know what they think! Also, westernbeauty, you are the best beta ever :) Oh, and this chapter contains some smut so... you have been warned.**

 **The Fourth Year**

She stood across from Oliver in their backyard, the sun beating down on them, sweat soaking into the thin tank top that she wore as it ran in rivulets down her spine. Her hair hung in a limp ponytail down her back.

Felicity shifted her stance and pounced, lunging forward the way that Oliver had shown her.

He was quick to dodge her attack, spinning away and causing her to stumble. She recovered quickly, whirling around with staff in hand and catching him hard in the ribcage. The sound of wood slapping into slick skin and dense muscle was loud in the air around them and the force of the hit reverberated up the length of her arms. Oliver didn't flinch as he responded with his own attack. His bow clipped her legs, taking her to the ground. The impact knocked the air from her lungs, leaving her disoriented, and he took advantage.

Oliver dropped his weight on her, straddling her thighs and pinning her arms over her head. She blinked up at him.

"You're getting better on the offense but you're too focused on the attack. You're leaving yourself wide open. You've got to work more on protecting yourself and stop worrying so much about the attack. In most cases, especially if your opponent isn't human, you won't be able to incapacitate them."

She nodded and rolled her head enough to wipe her sweat-drenched face on her shoulder. Oliver dropped his head to the curve of her neck.

"I don't like this," he murmured, releasing her hands and slipping his arms beneath her back, "I hate training you to fight. The thought of someone hurting you, of you having to –"

"I know, Oliver. But look at it this way, if it ever happens again, I'll be ready. And I know that its been two years since that demon tried to kill me but I still need to know how to handle myself, just in case. I feel safe, I do, especially when I'm with you. Training me is just a – a precaution."

Her fingers slid over his shoulders, skimming along warm, golden skin, and she traced the lines of his back. He stood with ease lifting her with him, and Felicity locked her legs around his waist as he carried her toward the house.

"How's your head?"

She kissed his cheek.

"It's fine. How are your ribs?"

He shrugged, "Fine."

The interior of their little cabin wasn't much cooler than the blistering day outside. The blinds had been drawn and several fans were circulating air in various rooms but it was still too warm.

Felicity didn't question it when Oliver bypassed the living room and then their bedroom, heading directly for the shower in their modest bathroom. When he set her on her feet in front of the sink, she toed off her sneakers and propped her hip against the vanity. Oliver reached into the shower and her eyes followed the play of muscles in his naked back.

When he turned back to her, his hands fell to her waist and dipped beneath the hem of her shirt. His fingers glided along her ribs and she lifted her arms as he guided the garment over her head. Her sports bra – plain gray and utilitarian – soon followed, leaving her naked from the waist up. He stepped into her, crowding her into the countertop at her back with the wall of his hard chest in front of her. His calloused hands glided across her abdomen and around her waist, the action leaving her nipples pebbled and her skin flushed. He tugged her forward half a step until she was plastered against him, naked chest to naked chest.

"I can't lose you, Felicity."

She took his face in her hands, reversing their roles for once, and rose up on her toes to brush her lips against his waiting mouth.

"You won't, Oliver. I'm fine. I'm safe."

His arms banded around her back, drawing her infinitesimally closer, and she felt every inch of his large body. She felt the hard ridge of his erection where it was pressed into her belly and the heat that wafted off of his scarred skin, enveloping her.

Oliver fell to his knees, lifting each foot to carefully remove her socks and set them aside with the sneakers she'd already removed. When his hands reached for the waistband of her yoga pants, she caught his wrists and sucked her lower lip between her teeth.

"I'm – I'm really sweaty, babe. Like gross sweaty and I –"

Oliver shook his head, freeing his hands, and licking a strip beneath her bellybutton.

She sighed, her fingers diving into his hair, and braced herself against the slab of marble at her back. Her pants and underwear were whisked down the length of her legs and she stepped out of them. Oliver leaned into her, the stubble on his cheeks and chin abrading the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. She trembled under his ministrations. He nipped and kissed a fiery path from the top of one thigh, across her mound, and along to the other, leaving her shaking as need blossomed in her core. His hands were warm where they gripped her hips, his thumbs digging into her pubic bone, and Felicity lay her hands over his, entwining their fingers.

She waited for his lips to move lower, for him to bury his face in the juncture of her thighs and suck her clit into his mouth. Her breath was stuck in her throat. But he didn't do as she expected. Instead, he rose up and nuzzled her flat stomach, leaving her feeling bereft.

"I want to put a baby here," Oliver whispered, "I want to have a baby with you, love. I want to watch you grow with our child."

His words brought tears to her eyes.

They had talked about starting a family more and more over the previous months. She had even stopped taking her birth control, leaving them with the not-so-pleasant issue of condoms, in the hope that when they decided that they were ready for a baby, they'd would have one less obstacle standing in their way. She hadn't wanted to tell him but she was ready. She had been for a while. She'd wanted to hear him say the words. She needed to know that he was as ready – as eager – as she was.

"Okay," she whispered, threading her fingers into his hair and tipping his head back so that she could see his eyes, "I want that, too, Oliver."

He sighed, his eyes slipping closed, and pressed open mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin of her belly. Her fingers tightened, tugging the short strands of his hair as he sank lower, his hands still on her hips angling her forward. When his tongue darted out to taste her, Felicity gasped. Warmth flooded her, making her limbs tingle and burn as he touched her clit with the tip of his tongue.

A strangled cry escaped, leaving her lips parted and her chest heaving. Oliver applied the perfect amount of pressure to the swollen bundle of nerves, the force of his strokes expertly building her pleasure before he drew her clit into his mouth and sucked just the way that she'd wanted him to.

The vanity at her back took most of her weight as her legs shook with the effort to keep herself upright and even though Oliver's hands still gripped her hips tightly, she still felt like she was falling.

"Oliver, ple – please. I need – I –"

She didn't know what it was she was asking for but Oliver knew her well enough to understand.

He angled his head, dragging his teeth gently across her flesh, and her pleasure erupted. The death grip she had on Oliver's hair slackened but he stayed with her, lapping at her too-sensitive clit as she came down from her orgasm. When she finally felt as if she could breathe again, she raked her nails across his scalp, grinning down at him as he looked up at her with hooded eyes.

"I love you."

He chuckled.

"I love you, too."

He got to his feet and she watched with blatant approval as his muscles flex and rippled beneath the taut flesh of his chest and arms. Her mouth went dry and when he shoved his sweats and boxers down, freeing his erection, she bit her lip and sighed happily.

Oliver reached for her then and she went willingly, wrapping her legs around his waist when he lifted her. He carried her into the already steaming shower and as the spray of water hit her back, Felicity lowered her lips to his throat. His hands slipped along her spine, tangling in her wet hair where it fell across her shoulders, and when she nipped at the underside of his jaw, he wrapped the strands around his fist. She made a path from his jaw to his ear where she tugged the lobe between her teeth.

"I need to feel you," she whispered, lips trailing along the shell of his ear, "I want to feel you come inside me."

Her back hit the wall half a second later as he pushed against her, thrusting against the cradle of her thighs, his cock pushing into the wetness and bumping against her clit. She whimpered.

One of his hands settled on her ass, fingers squeezing tightly, and Felicity reached between them to guide him to her entrance. Oliver pumped his hips, sinking into her in one slow stroke. He filled her completely and their moans blended together in the small space.

"I love you, Felicity, so much."

She pressed her face to the curve of his shoulder and held onto him desperately.

"I love you, Oliver."

Her fingers danced along the nape of his neck as his hips moved, his pace strong and steady, his thrusts causing her back to slide up the slick tile wall. Her legs clenched around his hips. Little ribbons of fire spiraled outward from her core as her ecstasy built. It wasn't the same as the first orgasm he'd given her, not as hurried or desperate. It left her scorched either way.

Oliver grasped her hips tighter, one hand slipping around her to press at the small of her back, changing the angle of his thrusts. She moaned, smothering the sound against the side of his head, and clutched at his shoulders. His pace quickened and she knew he was on the edge of release. It wouldn't take much more to get her to that same place. She let one of her hands snake between their bodies, fingering her clit as Oliver pounded into her.

"Fuck, Felicity, I – oh fuck."

He came with a strangled cry that he muffled against the curve of her throat. His hips continued to move against her, continued to drive his length deeper into her, and she followed him over the edge as blinding pleasure exploded like fireworks on the backs of her eyelids. Felicity couldn't stop from clawing at his back as she tried desperately to hang on and ride out her orgasm.

When he finally settled, his breath harsh against her throat as he held her aloft, she blinked her eyes open slowly and the small stall of their shower came into focus. She carded her fingers through Oliver's wet hair.

"I – I have a feeling this baby making process is going to be exhausting."

He laughed, his shoulders shaking and in turn shaking her, and when he lifted his head to meet her gaze, she grinned.

"But it'll be fun."

She shook her head wryly.

"You're terrible."

"And yet you love me anyway."

She couldn't deny it. She wouldn't. He made her happier than she had ever been in her life. She couldn't wait to start their family, to see what Oliver was like as a father. She had been dreaming about the child they would have together since the moment they'd discussed taking the next step in their life. It had been nearly a year. A year of waiting and worrying and wondering when they would be ready.

They were ready now and Felicity craved nothing more than the feeling of their child growing inside of her.

The first time Oliver introduced her to John Diggle, Felicity knew that she could trust him. He was a big man, even bigger than her husband, but he had kind eyes and an easy smile. The fact that he had openly teased the usually stoic Oliver Queen certainly made his presence easier to accept. Because that was exactly what Oliver expected her to do.

Mr. Diggle was a colleague, someone that Oliver trusted, and he would be her shadow. At least, that was what her husband expected her to agree to.

"John, will you excuse us for a moment?" she asked through clenched teeth, "I need to speak with my husband. Alone."

John grinned and held his hands up in surrender as he backed away.

"Good luck, man."

Oliver shook his head and waited until his friend was out of earshot before turning to her. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the kitchen counter.

"I do not need a bodyguard, Oliver. If you think for one second that I'm going to give up my privacy, my – my freedom and let that guy follow me every, you are out of your fracking mind!"

He sighed, "Felicity, love, just think about it for a minute. You don't like being cooped up when I'm away. You hate not being able to go out on your own. If John is here, if he's with you, you'll be safe. And trust me, he knows how to be discreet."

She snorts, "I don't doubt that, Oliver. But –"

"And what if – what if you're pregnant? You'll need to be more mobile. You'll have doctor's appointments. You'll need to go to the store. Even when I'm not here."

She fought the grin that wanted to break through the annoyance she had kept etched on her face. She stepped up to him, hands coming up to rest on his chest, and Oliver's hands fell to her hips. His thumbs dip beneath the hem of her t-shirt.

"We only started actively trying two days ago, Oliver. You know it may take a while. It could be months, hell, maybe years, before I get pregnant."

Something in his expression changed and he glanced away.  
Felicity froze.

"What? What aren't you telling me?"

He shook his head, "Nothing."

"Oliver! Am I – am I already …"

Her gaze fell to his hands where they remained on her hips. She let the fingers of her right hand slide between both of his along her flat tummy.

"I'm pregnant? Are you sure?"

Oliver pressed his lips to her forehead.

"I am."

"But – but how?"

He shrugged, "A gift."

Felicity looked up at him and laughed. She let him pull her into the circle of his arms, melting a little as his warmth surrounded her. Her heart thrummed in her chest.

They were having a baby. She was pregnant with Oliver's child and they had only _tried_ three – more like six – times. Apparently procreating wasn't a problem for an angel.

"Will you at least consider letting John shadow you, please? Only if you have an appointment that I can't make or – or if something comes up and you want to leave. He won't be here all the time, only when you call for him."

She sighed again.

"It'll make you feel better? Me letting this guy – whose arms are as big around as my thighs, by the way – protect me in your absence?"

He nodded, that familiar little smirk lighting his face, and Felicity found her resolve crumbling. She wondered briefly if her ease in giving up her fight came from the Mark. Was she allowing herself to be compelled by Oliver's emotions? She shook her head, either way, it didn't matter.

"Fine. John can stay. But I'd better not see him. Not unless I specifically request his help. Got it?"

The smile on Oliver's face grew.

"Yes, dear."

She rolled her eyes but allowed herself to grin up at her husband. He tugged her closer and tucked her head beneath his chin. He held her close.

"Anything else you want to share about our unborn child? Apart from the fact that he or she exists?" she asks, "Wait, do you know already? Can you tell if it's a girl or a boy? Is it – is it okay? Will it be healthy?"

He stroked a hand through her hair, "No, love. There's nothing else. Not yet, anyway."

She settled against him.

"You'll tell me when you do know, right? If – if anything changes?"

He nodded, "Of course."

Felicity forced herself to step away from her husband. She picked up Yoda from the floor where he'd been winding figure eights between her legs.

She sighed, "You should go get John. Ask him if he's hungry. I'll order from that Thai place in town that you like so much."

Oliver pressed a quick kiss to her lips.

"I'll be right back. You won't regret this, Felicity, I promise. Besides, you may even like having John around if you give him a chance."

She rolled her eyes again.

"Highly unlikely, Queen."


	14. Chapter Twelve

**A/N:** It's Tuesday, yay! New chapter and only one more day until Arrow is back here in the US. Just a quick thank you to everyone who has been keeping up with this. My writing process is slowing down (as westernbeauty can attest to) but I'm doing my damndest to stay on schedule. Oh, and to my lovely beta westernbeauty, thank you for all of your support and your feedback. You are definitely pushing me to keep going.

 **Mark of the Angel**

She had just entered into her second trimester when the notice was delivered. It was October and Felicity had decorated their small stoop with pumpkins and hardy mums. She smiled at the carrier who knocked on their door and signed for the certified letter. She took it back into the living room where Oliver sat on the sofa with Yoda curled up beside him. She dropped into the seat next to him.

"What is that?"

She glanced over at him and shrugged.

"Not sure."

She began to pull open the heavy-duty envelope but Oliver stopped her before she could break the seal.

"What?" she asked as he eased it from her hands.

She watched as he examined it, turning it over and eyeing the return address label.

"Think about it, Felicity. How many people have our address? Why was this delivered here? Everything goes to the PO box in town."

Her brain was so sluggish these days (pregnancy brain) that she hadn't even gone there. She should have. She'd gotten her predilection for paranoia from her husband and, if she had been feeling a little more like herself, she wouldn't have even considered opening that envelope.

Oliver was right. They didn't offer their address to anyone. They'd been as off-the-grid as possible without actually being off-the-grid. (Felicity needed the internet. She _liked_ the internet.) The only person who had their home address was Thea. And Tommy, although he didn't actually need it. The same could be said for John Diggle.

"Are you expecting something from a lawyer in Maryland?"

Felicity blinked up at him from behind her glasses. They were slipping down her nose.

"Maryland? I don't know anyone in Maryland. What do you think it is?"

Oliver hesitated and then stood, moving towards the French doors that led to their backyard. He didn't go outside but Felicity realized he was purposely putting distance between her and the envelope in his hands. She hadn't even considered that something harmful could be inside, some kind of chemical weapon or something. It was certainly too small to be an explosive.

He extracted the contents of the package, a thick stack of papers, and frowned.

"Oliver?"

She remained frozen on the sofa, watching him. His eyes scanned the papers he held before lifting to hers. The look that he gave her sent a shiver racing down her spine. Yoda crawled into her lap and her hand immediately fell to stroke along his back as she watched Oliver come back to her, handing over the documents.

Felicity held his gaze for a long moment before allowing herself to look at what she now held in her hands. Her eyes skimmed the top page. And then they did it again and again. Until she'd read the words half a dozen times and they'd begun to blur together.

Meredith Walker was dead. The only mother that she had ever known had died. At least, that was what the letter – addressed to Felicity Smoak – said. What Amanda Waller, the estate attorney for the woman who had raised Felicity, was claiming. According to Ms. Waller's letter, Meredith had been fighting a rare form of lymphoma for months prior to her death. Months in which Oliver and Felicity had been tirelessly searching for her. They'd been looking for nearly two years.

"My – my mother is dead."

Oliver appeared in her line of vision, crouching down in front of her. He slid the paperwork from her grasp and set it aside. He wrapped his warm hands around both of hers.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded slowly, swallowing the bile that burned its way up her throat.

"She – she wasn't a good person. She was a terrible mother. She never loved me. She let… she let awful things happen to me. She let people _use me,_ Oliver. No one should have to live that way, to grow up like that. I should be happy that she's gone."

Oliver's hand cupped her cheek.

"Felicity."

Tears blurred her vision.

"And I mean, I'm not even sure anymore that she was my mother, you know? Actually, I'm more sure that she isn't. And I don't remember anything – anything good about my childhood. I don't remember ever feeling wanted or – or-"

He tugged her forward to the edge of the sofa, his arms banding around her and drawing her into his embrace. She pressed her face into his shoulder as the first sob tore through her. Her body shook with the force of it, her shoulders heaving, and hot, fat tears fell from her eyes. Her throat was too tight, making it hard to breathe, and she found herself gasping for air. Oliver's hand moved carefully up and down her back.

"Shh, love, relax. Take a deep breath."

She tried to do as he instructed, she tried to comply, but she only ended up crying harder, choking herself.

Oliver stood then, lifting her weight in his arms as he cradled her to his chest, and carried her into their bedroom. She clutched at him, her arms tight around his shoulders as she buried her face against his neck. She couldn't stop the painful tremors that wracked her body as she cried, the sobbing slowing to little hiccups that she muffled against his warm skin. She didn't protest as he laid her out on their bed, crawling in behind her and resting his arm protectively across her slightly rounded middle. His fingers spread over the little bump that was their baby. She turned to press her face into the arm beneath her head as Oliver nuzzled her hair.

The tears that she shed were not for the woman who had claimed to be her mother. They were for her. For all the answers she wouldn't get. For all the cruelty that she'd had to endure for years, the horrible things she'd become accustomed to at such a young age. She had never known the unconditional love of a parent, of a mother. For the first nineteen years of her life, she hadn't known love at all.

Until she'd run headlong into Oliver Queen.

Felicity rolled over into him, burying her face against his shoulder yet again. One of his hands clutched her hip while the other rested between her shoulder blades, his thumb massaging the knot that had formed there. She inhaled slowly, the scent and heat of his skin calming her skittering pulse, and pushed the air from her lungs.

She blinked away the rest of her tears.

"We've looked for her for so long and now… and now she isn't here anymore. She can't answer any of the questions that I have. I need to know about my real mother, Oliver. I need to know if what we suspect is true. If my mother – my biological mother – died giving birth to me and – and Meredith Walker was just the woman that I somehow ended up with. How will I ever know for sure?"

He sighed, his fingers digging a little harder into the tight muscles of her upper back.

"We can contact the lawyer tomorrow," he told her, "We'll find out how much they know. We need to look through the paperwork. John and Tommy, I'll have them confirm that it's true."

She pulled back far enough that she could look into his eyes.

"Why weren't we able to track her? I mean, that's what you guys do for a living, right? You're monitoring people all the time, why weren't we ever able to just… I don't know, check the crystal ball or whatever and track Meredith down?"

Oliver shook his head, "It doesn't work that way, Felicity. We track the people who are specifically assigned to us, the people who have been allotted guardianship for a reason. There is no crystal ball. The higher-ups may have better insight into where certain people are at any given time but that information isn't shared among the angels. We work on a need-to-know basis."

"I'm sure Meredith wasn't high on anyone's list."

They lay in silence for a long while, Oliver's hands gently kneaded her tense muscles while hers played with the soft knit sweater that stretched across his chest.

She would be a good mother to their baby. She hadn't had a good example of what a real family was. She'd been saddled with a woman who didn't want her, a woman who made it no secret that she didn't love her. But Felicity would use that. She would give their child everything that she had been denied. All of the love and compassion, the caring and understanding, that a mother should have for their child. Felicity would give all of those things to their baby. She would be the mother she had wanted growing up. And there was no question in her mind that Oliver would be an amazing father. He already was. He took care of her, loved her, and made sure that she and their baby were safe.

They would be the family that Felicity had spent her whole life dreaming of.

* * *

Felicity sat at the kitchen table, her eyes following her husband as he moved around their small kitchen. Dinner smelled amazing, the scent of it wafting down the hall into their bedroom having been what had pulled her from sleep, and she couldn't deny that her mouth watered a little at her eagerness to eat the chicken cordon bleu that Oliver had mastered.

She had woken up alone, her eyes tired and burning after crying herself to sleep in his arms. Oliver had taken care of her as he always did, tucking her into bed and holding her until she'd exhausted herself. She'd dreamed of their baby. Of a little girl with dazzling blue eyes and soft blonde curls. Of the family that she craved so desperately. And when she woke, Felicity had been comforted by the fact that her dreams had become reality. That she had found everything that she needed with Oliver. And even if it was just going to be the three of them, her and Oliver and the little one currently growing in her belly, it was enough. But if that changed down the road somewhere, if they decided to expand their family even further with a second child, a third, she would be happy with that, too. She would take everything that life gave her as long as she had him beside her.

"Hungry?"'

She grinned as he crossed the room toward her, two steaming plates of food balanced in one hand while he carried two glasses of milk in the other.

Felicity shook her head.

It was her only odd pregnancy craving so far. She had taken to drinking milk like her life depended on it, going through a gallon every two days, and when Oliver had mentioned it in front of Tommy, her brother-in-law had questioned if she was carrying a baby or a litter of kittens. But somehow the milk had helped cut the craving she'd had for caffeine in the beginning – Oliver had fought her down to one single cup of coffee a day – and she'd lost too much orange juice in her battle with morning sickness to even be able to stomach the smell. So milk it was, interspersed with a random bottle of water here and there.

"Starving. This looks wonderful, Oliver."

He settled into the chair across from her and she smiled at the slight tinge of pink that colored his cheeks. For some strange reason, her husband had trouble taking a compliment.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

She stabbed a piece of chicken, shrugging, and stuck it into her mouth. She sighed happily as a myriad of flavors burst on her tongue.

"Okay, I guess. I'm not really sure how I'm supposed to feel. I just – I guess I just want answers. And I thought that if I could speak to her, maybe she could tell me what who my real mother is. Maybe she would be able to…"

Oliver reached across the table for her hand and she turned hers palm up, letting the warmth of his skin settle her frayed emotions.

"I read through everything that the lawyer sent. Your mother left you some things. The documents don't say what, just that she had a will and that you're the sole beneficiary. But there's a stipulation. You have to actually travel to Maryland to collect whatever it is. They're not permitted to send anything to you. If you don't show up in person, then you don't get anything."

Felicity blanched and Oliver's gripped held. He wouldn't let her pull away.

"I – I have to go there? To Maryland?"

He nodded, "Fredericksburg. We can go whenever you're ready."

She glanced down at the half-eaten meal in front of her, feeling her stomach roil. They'd exhausted so much time and energy searching for this woman, the woman who had – in the most minimal way possible – raised her because they had needed to know the truth. They had needed answers. But now that there was a possibility, no matter how small, that she could find them, Felicity found herself afraid of what she would uncover.

"What if Meredith Walker really was my mother, Oliver? What if – what would that mean for us? For the Marked?"

He shrugged, "It would mean that Thea's theory is wrong. Felicity, there is no way to deny that you and I are Marked. None. So whatever we find in Maryland, it doesn't change who we are. It won't change us."

It took longer than she should've let it for his words to settle inside of her. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze before releasing her and going back to his food. She pushed hers around on her plate.

"I – I have no happy memories of my life with her. I left Boston when I was fourteen. I had hardly any money and nothing more than a change of clothes and a laptop that barely functioned. But I was so scared and I couldn't stay there. I couldn't stay with a mother who didn't love me. Who couldn't – who couldn't have cared less what happened to me. I knew that if I stayed, it would only get worse. The older I got, the more she –"

"Hey, it's okay. I understand."

She shook her head, "No, no, what I'm trying to say is that I didn't have any good memories before I met you, Oliver. And now… I'm happy. With you. With our life. Our family."

Felicity bit her lip to stem the flood of her emotions. She hadn't had too many bouts with overflowing hormones but she knew that it was inevitable.

"I love you."

He smiled, "I love you, too. And I'm glad that you're happy. I'm – I want you to be happy, Felicity. I want you to feel safe and loved and wanted. And I will do everything that I can to make sure that our baby feels the same way. You know that, don't you?"

She nodded, sending errant tears sliding down her cheeks, and wiped them away hastily.

"Oh god, six more months of me being hormonal," she sighed, "I'm just going to apologize now and get it out of the way."

Oliver huffed out a laugh, awarding her with the amused little grin that he reserved just for her, and Felicity felt some of the tension fall away.

She hadn't meant to make dinner such an emotional affair but her brain had been working overtime since she'd read the letter from Ms. Waller's office and a million and one thoughts had been fighting to make their way to the surface. And it wasn't as if Oliver didn't know how she felt. The way that the Mark tied them together left little space between her emotions and his. There were times that she thought that their hearts beat together as one, strong and steady and in sync. More than once in the years since she'd met him, she had wondered what being Marked truly did to them. How it affected their physiology. Once they found one another, once the Marked had been united, was their genetic make-up mutated in a way that they literally couldn't live separately? She had wondered so often if that was the case. When Oliver was on an assignment for days, when her body ached with missing him, she wondered if there was something in her DNA that made her need him with her. It didn't happen every time he left and it wasn't as if she couldn't go on with her day to day life when he wasn't home, but the longing that she felt when he was gone caused a pain so deep in her chest that the first time she'd felt it, she'd been afraid that she was dying.

"Hey, Felicity? Did you hear me?"

She started, her eyes shooting to his where he stood beside her, his hand on her nearly empty plate. She didn't even remember picking up her fork.

"No, sorry, I was – I guess I zoned out."

Oliver frowned, "Are you sure you're alright?"

She nodded.

"I'm okay, Oliver, I promise. What did you ask?"

He tipped his head toward her plate, "Are you finished with this?"

Felicity stood and let her lips bush his cheek. She took the plate from his hand.

"I am. But you cooked so let me clean up," she urged, "Maybe you can get online and find out where exactly we need to go to see this lawyer of Meredith's."

She felt his eyes on her as she set the dishes in the sink and turned on the hot water.

"Sure. How soon do you want to go?"

Felicity tossed a look at him over her shoulder.

"As soon as possible. I want to get this over with."

* * *

"Oliver, it's fine. Really. John can drive down with me and you can meet us there when you're finished.

Her husband huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

It took every ounce of her self control not to roll her eyes. He had become increasingly overbearing the further along she'd gotten into her pregnancy. She understood. She wasn't blind to the risks. But there were times that his over protective nature grated on her nerves.

She and their baby could be seen as targets, she knew. If another demon – like the one who had attacked her not-so-long-ago – decided to take action against the angels, they'd certainly have reason to come after her. Not only was Felicity married to an angel, but he just so happened to be Marked, a rarity in and of itself. And it left them both with large targets on their backs.

Felicity stepped into his personal space and wound her arms around his waist. His posture loosened and he wrapper her in a hug, drawing her into the warm, solid expanse of his chest.

"I'll only be gone for three days, Felicity."

"I know. But I – Oliver, I need to do this. I want to get it over with. Meredith either was my mother and Thea is way off base with her theory… or she wasn't. And if she wasn't, then I have to know. You chose John for this job. You're the one who insisted that I have a bodyguard and, if I'm remembering correctly, it was specifically for this reason. So that I would have more freedom. So that I could actually leave this house without you. Let the man do what we're paying him to do. We are paying him, aren't we? He isn't just doing this as a favor to you, right? Because, seriously, talk about a waste of time!"

Oliver shook his head, grinning down at her, and he cupped her face in his hands.

"Digg doesn't exactly need money, love. He's here because he's my friend. And because he knows how much I need you. He volunteered for this."

She smacked his chest.

"Oliver! We have to do something. Pay him or – or – are you laughing at me?"

He shook his head – ruefully this time – and Felicity smacked him again, fighting her own amusement.

"Sweetheart, I promise you that we do not need to pay Digg," he assured her, "He has no need for our money."

Felicity found herself frowning at that. They had never lacked for anything in all the time that they'd been together. They weren't billionaires by any means but there was always enough money to cover their bills and monthly expenses. And those months that they had been on the road actively searching for her mother, there had been plenty of money for hotels and food and gas. And she hadn't once thought to question where the money came from. She'd been living under the assumption that Oliver worked for the government or some private firm but that was before.

"Oliver, where does –"

A knock at the door cut her off and then Tommy's voice was filling their small home.

"Ollie, man, you'd better be decent."

Her brother-in-law appeared with a wide grin highlighting his handsome face

"Oh good. Everyone's dressed."

Felicity rolled her eyes, flushing in spite of herself.

"It was one time, Tommy. Let it go. Besides, that'll teach you to walk into someone's home uninvited," Oliver grumbled, "At least it should have."

She pressed her face into Oliver's chest as she laughed, a blanket of warmth coating her as the memory of that day came back. They'd been saying a very pleasant goodbye on the sofa when Tommy had barged in. Thankfully, she'd been pinned beneath the bulk of her husband's body and it had been his bare ass that Tommy had gotten to see. And lucky for him (because Felicity would've had to have murdered him otherwise) she had already flown over the blissful edge and had been floating in the hazy aftermath of her orgasm. Oliver, on the other hand, had finished with his brother standing right there.

She shivered.

Oliver's lips brushed her ear.

"We can replay that day whenever you'd like, love."

Tommy made a gagging noise behind her.

"Keep it in your pants, man. You already knocked the poor girl up."

Oliver tensed in her arms and Felicity knew that he didn't appreciate his brothers ribbing. Certainly not where their baby was concerned.

"Okay. I think that you two should head out. Don't you have work to do?"

She stepped out of Oliver's embrace but not before lifting up onto her toes to press a swift kiss to his lips.

"Stay safe. Make good choices. Love you."

He reached for her, his large hands settling over her belly.

"Love you. And if you really feel like you need to take Digg and head to Maryland, then go. But please – please – be careful."

She nodded, "I will."

He kissed her again, lingering just long enough to make tendrils of desire swirl around low in her stomach, before moving to join his brother at the door.

Tommy grinned at her, "See ya later, sis."

She rolled her eyes this time.

"Bye, Tommy."

Felicity stood in the living room and watched her husband and his brother leave. The moment the door shut behind them, she knew that they were gone and that John Diggle was just a phone call away.

She headed to her room to pack a bag.


	15. Chapter Thirteen

A/N: Thanks again for all of the wonderful reviews, you guys rock!

 **Chapter Thirteen**

Felicity sat in the front seat of a large SUV, her booted feet propped up on the dashboard, as a large man drove her southwest through Pennsylvania. She rested one hand over the swell of her stomach and watched the man beside her.

John Diggle, she mused, was huge. His arms alone would intimidate most people but when you took in the overall density of the man, it was obvious that he was built like a tank and could easily break her in half with a simple flick of his wrist. He wouldn't, of course. She trusted him that much. She trusted him because Oliver trusted him. Also, she realized, the man was an angel. That had to make him inherently good. At least, that was what she hoped. He couldn't hurt her, could he?

"You do realize it's a little unnerving when you do that, right?"

She tipped her head.

"Do what? I wasn't doing anything."

He glanced at her, his face relaxed even though his eyes shown with amusement.

" You've been studying my face for an hour, Felicity."

Her cheeks heated. She had been openly staring. She'd only seen him twice in the months since Oliver had announced that he would be her security detail and both of those occurrences had been brief. She'd never even spoken to him.

"Sorry. I'm just curious, I guess. Oliver clearly trusts you or you and I wouldn't be here right now. And I just recently learned that you volunteered for this babysitting gig. So I can't help wondering… why? I mean, why would you waste your time hanging around waiting for me to need a bodyguard? Which will pretty much be never, just FYI."

John cast a sidelong glance in her direction. He had to have been briefed enough to understand that rambling was just a part of the package with her. She talked a lot and often without a filter. At least where her husband was concerned. She could only hope that her new friend didn't mind.

"I've known Oliver a long time," John said with a shrug, "He's a good friend. We've been through a lot together."

Felicity watched his eyes slide back to the highway that stretched in front of them. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands and her gaze zeroed in on the wedding band that he wore.

"What does your wife think of you doing pro bono work?"

His fingers flexed where they were wrapped around the soft leather wheel. He sighed.

"She'd be okay with it if she understood what you mean to Oliver," John replied, "If she knew what lengths he was willing to take to keep you safe."

Felicity frowned.

"John Diggle, are you telling me that your wife doesn't know that you're here? With me?"

She knew that she sounded like a hypocrite in her accusation. For all she knew, Mrs. Diggle could be as in the dark about her husband's nature as she had been about Oliver's. She had gone three long years living with the belief that a) Oliver was some kind of secret agent and b) that he was human. The first – at least – had been close to the truth. As a guardian angel, he was a type of secret agent. The only difference being that he worked for God, not the government.

"My wife died a few years ago."

His soft confession pulled her from her musings and she felt a stab of guilt as the words sunk in.

"Oh. John, I – I'm so sorry."

He shrugged, "It's alright, Felicity. You didn't know."

"Oliver should've told me," she replied, "He should've told me a little bit about you. I'm sure you know all kinds of things about me. Hell, you probably have a file. Do you? Have a file on me? Because that's just – just weird. And I think I'd like to see it."

John laughed, shaking his head, and veered them onto the next exit ramp that came into view. And just in time, she realized, because the baby was sitting on her bladder and she was famished.

"No, Felicity, there's no file. But Oliver talks about you enough that I got the basics. He really loves you."

She felt heat flood her face again and the hand on her belly rubbed absent circles over the evidence of their love.

"I love him, too. Very much. Do you… do you know? About the – our –"

He shrugged, "The Marks? Yeah, I know. Felicity, when I say that Oliver and I are good friends, I mean that we're more like brothers."

"Huh. Wonder why he's never talked about you before."

"That's something you'll have to ask your husband," Digg told her.

Felicity sighed. She had had a feeling that Diggle wasn't going to be any more forthcoming than Oliver had been before. Before he'd revealed to her that he – as well as Diggle and Tommy – were angels. And she couldn't outright tell Diggle what she knew. Oliver had made her promise not to tell anyone that she was in on his secret. She wasn't allowed to tell Thea – her only friend – and beyond that, there wasn't anyone that she would've told anyway. But pretending that she had no idea what it was that Oliver, Tommy and Diggle did for a living wasn't easy when her brother-in-law and her husband's best friend were a part of her life.

"Do you like music?"

She reached for the radio, turning up the volume of the random station they'd settled on and letting the noise drown out the sudden babble that wanted to flood out of her.

They had less than four hours to go before arriving at their destination. Her nerves were shot, making a slight tremor race through her. A small flutter on her left side told her that her baby was feeling her anxiety as well. She rubbed a tight circle over what she was certain was her baby's foot and took a slow breath, steadying her erratic heartbeat. She felt John's gaze on her as she did.

"You okay?"

She nodded, "Fine."

"Felicity, I may not have a dossier on you, but I can read a woman well enough to know when she's lying."

She bit her tongue. She didn't know what Oliver had told him about her mother, about the situation that she'd grown up in, and Felicity refused to open that box for anyone else.

"I'm fine, John. Really."

He continued to watch her and she continued to pretend that she didn't notice. They had three hundred and ninety one minutes before they arrived at the office of Amanda Waller. She could keep her thoughts to herself until then.

* * *

Oliver stood with his back pressed to the front window of a small deli. He was cloaked by the shadow that its awning cast, the faint light of the moon not quite reaching him. His eyes were trained on the apartment building across the street. The roof held a special interest. The event that he'd been sent to stop would be occurring soon - he had less than eight minutes if his watch was correct – and he fought to remain focused on his mission.

They had been in constant contact from the moment that he and Felicity had parted ways. She had been texting him off and on throughout the day, sometimes just to tell him about a song she liked on the radio, other times she filled him in on their progress as they moved towards Maryland, but he hadn't gone more than an hour without some kind of communication from her. He knew that she was safe – that they both were – and he was certain that John wouldn't let anything happen to her. But Oliver had a niggling of worry in his gut that he hadn't been able to quell. It had stuck with him from the moment that he'd watched her climb into John's SUV.

The atmosphere around him shifted, a blast of hot air washing across his skin, and Oliver didn't need to turn to know who stood beside him.

"Well?"

"They're fine, Oliver. They checked into a hotel in Frederick. John reported back that they had an uneventful trip. Everything is good."

"And the lawyer? Amanda Waller. Who is she?"

Sara sighed, "No one of any significance from what I can tell. But Tommy stayed behind just in case. Oh, and he asked me let you know that he's not happy about you ordering him around. As if you didn't already know that."

A flash of movement at the roof's edge caught his attention. Glancing at his watch, Oliver shook his head. Right on time.

The young woman that appeared looked to be close to Felicity's age. Her dark hair was a wild mane as the autumn wind caused it to swirl about her head. Even at a distance her distress was evident. Her pale face practically glowed in the moonlight.

"You ready?"

His wings expanded, the familiar burn scorching across his back, and he stepped out into the street. Sara moved to stand beside him.

"Who is she?" his friend asked.

Oliver shrugged, "Someone who still has time on her clock. Let's go."

* * *

Felicity sat on the floor at the foot of the small bed in her hotel room. Her laptop was open in her lap, the television was on with the volume lowered, and she scrolled absently through the posts on the website's message board. It was just after two in the morning and sleep was eluding her. She had a cramp in her lower back – thank you baby – and nervous butterflies in her stomach. The prospect of finding out more about her mother, about her past, was daunting. She and Oliver had spent months searching for Meredith Walker and in that time she had imagined a million different ways that that confrontation would play out. She had scripted what she would say to the woman who had let her live in hell for all those years, the woman who couldn't have cared less about her safety or wellbeing. But now, now Meredith was dead and a stranger was going to reveal the truth to her. Or at least as much of it as Meredith had shared before she'd died. And the possibility that she would finally discover who she really was, how she'd actually come to be in Meredith's life, was seriously freaking her out.

She was aware of the time as she scanned the forum. Only a few more hours and Oliver's mission would be over. He would come and find her, preferably before she and John headed to Ms. Waller's office in the morning, and he would be there to hold her hand when everything finally fell into place. At least, that was what Felicity hoped. Because she knew that just because Meredith had left something for her, that didn't mean that what she was about to learn would be the truth. Or that it would lead her anywhere. It could be nothing. It could be completely meaningless. Whatever information, whatever possessions of Meredith's that awaited her at the lawyer's office, could be completely useless. She wouldn't know until she was actually there, until those things – whatever the hell they were – were physically in her possession.

Felicity sighed and shifted her position on the floor. The baby wasn't exactly in a position that made it comfortable for her to sit for long periods of time and Felicity knew that it would only get worse as the months progressed. She pressed her hand to her side and rubbed slow circles over the place where she assumed her little ones' head was.

"I hope your daddy gets here soon," she said softly, "Uncle John is great but Daddy is… well, he's just better and I hate being by myself. Especially on nights like this."

Her cell phone chirped from where it lay on the floor beside her and she jumped, clapping her hand over her heart.

She slid her finger across the screen to read the incoming text. It was Oliver.

 _Why are you still up?_

Felicity frowned.

 _What makes you think I am? Maybe your text woke me._

His response was almost immediate.

 _I can feel you worrying._

The phone rang in her hand before she could type out a reply.

"Hi."

"Hi. Are you alright?"

She sighed again, tipping her head into the mattress.

"Nervous, I guess. But I'm fine, Oliver."

"You should be sleeping. You need to rest."

His worry didn't surprise her. He had been good for the duration of her pregnancy thus far. Not hovering too much, not pushing her to follow a certain diet (minus that whole only one cup of coffee thing) or keeping her from doing any of the things she did day to day. He'd been supportive and she was certainly aware of the fact that he was being vigilant in regard to their safety, but he didn't make her feel as if she was being smothered.

"I slept a lot today, actually. In the car. Maybe a little too much though because I sure as hell can't sleep now," she told him, "The baby's asleep though. She isn't moving."

"She?"

Felicity smirked, shutting her laptop and setting it aside as she got to her feet. She switched off the television and the bedside lamp before crawling under the covers.

"I think it might be. A girl, I mean. Would you be happy with a girl?" she asked.

Oliver sighed, "I will be happy with whichever, Felicity. As long as this baby is ours, if he has my eyes and your hair or your nose and my chin, I don't care. I just want him or her to be healthy."

She found herself grinning into the darkness with her phone tucked between her ear and the pillow. She burrowed further under the blankets.

"What are we going to name her? Or him?"

She wondered where Oliver was at that moment. Was he with Tommy? Were they following one of their charges? Were they sitting around waiting for something to happen so that they could intervene? She knew that he would tell her as much as he could if she asked but it didn't matter. Wherever he was, he was taking the time to call her and talk her down so that she could get to sleep.

"I'm sure you have a list somewhere," he teased her, "Tell me what you're thinking if it's a boy."

"I like Jonas," she admitted quietly, knowing he wasn't exactly fond of sharing his name, "Jonas Matthew, maybe. Or if you don't like that, maybe just Matthew."

He was quiet for a long moment and Felicity worried her bottom lip with her teeth.

"I think Jonas would be … would be great. But what if it's a girl?"

She didn't miss how quickly he had changed the subject but she let him. Her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy and she had to stifle a yawn.

"I don't know, actually. I have a few names that I sort of like but there isn't one that I love yet. I'm still looking."

She listened as he started listing random names, some bland and some outrageous, some new and some old, and it was to the sound of her husband's voice as he attempted to come up with a moniker for their baby that Felicity finally fell asleep.


	16. The Tenth Year Again (Again)

**A/N:** Hey everyone! Just a heads up, this is another interlude / flash forward chapter. We're back to the tenth year just for this chapter. I'm working on getting us completely caught up so that the tenth year is the present and everything is cohesive. So, yep, here's the new chapter. And just have to say thank you again for all of the reviews and to everyone who is reading this. Also, thank you **westernbeauty** for being a wonderful beta!

 **Mark of the Angel**

 **The Tenth Year**

"What's next then? Where do we go from here?"

Felicity frowned, shrugging.

"I don't – I don't know. This is the extent of our contingency plan," she explained, gesturing around the cabin, "Find the safe house. Stay safe. That's it."

He crossed the room again, closing the distance between them, and turned a chair from the table. He sat on it backwards.

"Were you in danger before I went missing?"

"Yes."

"From what? Who?"

She shrugged again, "There are… people. People that you work for. Something happened and a – a threat was created."

Oliver bristled.

"Someone threatened you?"

She shook her head and tried again.

She couldn't be sure how much of his life that Oliver remembered. He had to know that he was an angel. He knew about Bás and about Yoda so surely he knew that he wasn't human. It had to be true.

She took a breath and reigned in her nerves.

"No. We – you and I … something that you and I did was a threat to them. Or, well, they saw it as a threat."

Oliver sighed heavily and scrubbed a hand over his scruffy jaw. _Uh-oh_.

"You're being awfully fucking vague, Felicity. What is it that you don't want to tell me? What did we do?"

His annoyance with her was evident in both his tone and his expression. And Felicity could sympathize. Their situation wasn't exactly cookie cutter. It was frustrating not knowing what was going on in your own life. She should know. Oliver had kept her in the dark for longer than she should've allowed. She definitely understood how he was feeling.

"Oliver, I –"

But she couldn't tell him about their daughter. She couldn't and she wouldn't but she wanted to more than anything in the world. He needed to know that Artemis existed. He needed to know that the love of his life was a spirited little girl with golden curls and an effervescent smile. A little girl whose first word had been _dada_. The same little girl who had wrapped them both around her tiny fingers from the moment that she came into the world.

"Tell me."

Felicity blinked, the image that her mind had conjured up of her baby fading at the commanding way that Oliver addressed her.

She laughed humorlessly.

"Nice try, Oliver, but it won't work. You can't compel me."

He frowned, "You're my match. We're Marked."

She shrugged.

"I am. But, Oliver, think about it. You're a… well, do you know?"

He stared at her. Silence settled heavily between them. She could see the truth in his eyes, his understanding. He knew that he was an angel. And he knew that she knew.

He held out his hand, his silent request for his weapon tearing Bás from her grip.

"I told you."

"You had to."

"Why?"

She canted her head.

"Because I'm your wife. And as you just reminded me, your match. You told me because you didn't like lying to me. Keeping secrets."

He rolled his shoulders and Felicity bit her lip, watching the way his body reacted to any talk of his nature.

"So how much do you know?" he asked.

"Pretty much all of it. After you… came clean initially, you stopped hiding things. We've always had a tendency to be exceptionally honest with each other."

"Then why won't you tell me what we did?"

Felicity sighed, resting her head on her arms where they were crossed on the table. Her heart was suddenly pounding like a jackhammer in her chest.

"Because it isn't just my life that I'm trying to protect, Oliver. Or yours. There are other people involved. Tommy and Thea and –"

"Thea?"

His question was sharp and she jolted up.

She hadn't meant to mention Thea. Did he know her? It was obvious that he recognized her name so he knew of her. But Felicity was almost certain that her husband didn't know that her best friend was actually his sister.

 _He took me to a private beach in northern California for our first wedding anniversary. It was wonderful. It was … everything that I could've asked for and more. We renewed our vows standing on the sand, under the stars, lit only by the moon. Just Oliver and I and Tommy, of course, who just had to drop by so he could officiate the ceremony._

"Felicity, what does Thea have to do with this? How do you even know her?"

Felicity shifted in her seat, coming to her feet.

"Do you want some coffee?"

She busied herself with the coffee maker as she attempted to decipher what thoughts she could and could not share with him. Felicity remembered clearly how he had reacted when he'd learned of his sister's involvement in her life to begin with. And the subsequent meltdown that he'd had upon actually discovering that Thea was his sister, that wasn't something that he was likely to forget.

"Felicity."

Her movements faltered. The carafe she held clattered against the countertop and Felicity braced herself as the familiar warmth of his voice brushed over her.

There had always been something in the way that Oliver spoke her name. The way that he could convey a myriad of emotions in just three syllables.

Felicity sighed and combed her fingers through her hair.

"Thea is … she's my friend. She was assigned to me. Not as my guardian, or anything," she confirmed quickly, "But when your bosses found out about me, they tasked Thea with following me. Discreetly, of course. And she didn't know why. Apparently Malcolm never told her."

Oliver shook his head, "You know Malcolm?"

Felicity shrugged.

"I know of him."

She carried coffee to the table for each of them and reclaimed her seat opposite him. She was quiet as she waited for Oliver to absorb the enormity of the situation. He rolled his shoulders again. A muscle in his cheek twitched. His jaw shifted.

"And I allowed this?"

She shrugged again, "You didn't know."

"How the fuck is that possible?"

"Think, Oliver. How long have you known Thea? When do you remember learning her name?"

His expression faltered as he sifted through what little memory he had of the last few months of his life.

He hadn't know that the sweet, dedicated librarian that she had recruited in her search for the Marked was actually an angel. And not only was she an angel, she was the daughter of Malcolm Merlyn. And Oliver and Tommy's half-sister. He hadn't known because Malcolm had kept her hidden.

"She was there when I woke up. She didn't tell me much. Just that – just her name. And that I couldn't trust anyone. She told me not to call Tommy. She said he'd been compromised. That they were watching him."

Felicity watched as Oliver's fingers flexed around his weapon. For the first time he looked unsettled, lost, and she found herself reaching for him. He stared at her hand on the table between them. The moment stretched on, forcing her heart into her throat, and when he finally relented and gave her his hand, she felt it erupt and flood her with emotion.

"It must've been difficult," she said softly, "Being… being alone. It must've been confusing."

He squeezed her fingers, turning their joined hands so that he could drag his thumb across her knuckles. He was staring intently at where their fingers were intertwined, as if he couldn't believe what they were doing.

"Four days isn't an eternity, Felicity."

She took a slow breath. He was right. He had only spent the past four days alone. He had only had four days to wonder. She had spent months missing him. Months worrying that her husband was dead, that Artemis would never really know her father. She had been on her own for so long. And it wasn't the same as before. The loneliness hadn't existed when she was younger. Before she'd met her match, before she had known what it was like to be loved by someone like Oliver, she hadn't really been lonely. But she had given up so much when she'd taken Arti to Thea and when Oliver hadn't come home.

"I've missed you, Oliver. So much. And I know that you don't remember me. I know that you don't - you don't know who I am or what we had but I –

She choked on a sob that worked its way from her throat. Tears burned tracks down her cheeks and Felicity withdrew her hand from his grasp, shoving away from the table.

Oliver followed her and as she wrapped her arms around herself and tried to bury the pain, his strong arms encircled her. He pulled her into his chest and Felicity went willingly. She burrowed into him, taking comfort in his embrace for the first time in close to a year.

 _I have never seen a sight more beautiful than the one in front of me right now. My husband stretched out on our sofa, bare chested and bare footed, a five week old bundle of sweet little girl settled in the middle of his chest. He's asleep, she is too, and his big hand is resting across her tiny body. I have dreamed of moments like this from the beginning of my pregnancy. I never thought that I could really have this. That a family like this, like ours, could really be mine. But they are._


	17. Chapter Fourteen

**A/N:** First off, again, to everyone who is reading and leaving reviews (and even if you're not reviewing) thank you so much for sticking with me! Your support means so much. Second, to my beta **westernbeauty** , you are an amazing human being and I thank you for your feedback and support. Lastly, I'd be lying if I said that this fic hasn't kicked my ass the last few weeks. I thought that taking this original manuscript that I started last year and re-working it as an Olicity fic would force me to continue working on the plot, possibly taking it to a place where I could actually finish the manuscript but it hasn't been easy. This chapter is a start in the right direction (I hope) and fingers crossed we stay on track… Anyhow, thanks again for hanging in there! Here's the next chapter of Mark of the Angel. Enjoy!

 **Mark of the Angel**

They pulled up in front of what – to Felicity – looked like a typical home on a quiet suburban street. She glanced down at the address on the letter from the lawyer's office.

"This the place?" John asked, opening her door for her.

Felicity shrugged as she climbed out of the truck. She stared up at bright red door, at the glossy black numbers painted on the frame that confirmed what she suspected. This unassuming house in its unassuming neighborhood was the location of the law firm that her mother had hired. Something about it caused anxiety to skip down her spine. The odd location of Amanda Waller's office heightened the worry that had had her twisted up for days and as she stood ready to knock on the door, she found herself wishing again for Oliver at her side, for the strength that he would offer her.

John's heavy hand fell onto her shoulder.

"Felicity, we can wait. Oliver will be here soon."

She shook her head.

"No, I want to get this over with. It's fine. I'm fine."

Before John could comment further or make a move to stop her, Felicity raised her hand to knock. It took mere moments for the door to open and a woman appeared. She was older than Felicity but not by much and her auburn hair was pulled up into a messy bun. The tight leather skirt she wore was tamed by the neat red blouse that topped it and when she smiled, Felicity found her expression unnerving.

"Uh, hi. I'm looking for Amanda Waller. I have a letter from her office," she rummaged for said letter in the satchel slung over her shoulder, "My mother was a client of Ms. Waller's and the letter says that she left some things for me."

"Felicity Smoak?"

Her hand froze in her bag and she lifted her gaze back to the woman standing in the doorway. This was Amanda Waller?

"Yes."

"I'm Carrie. Carrier Cutter. I'm an associate of Ms. Waller's. Please, come in."

Carrie opened the door wider, stepping aside in a move that was meant to be welcoming, and Felicity cast a glance at John where he stood behind her. She waited for him to step to her side before making a move to enter the office.

With the door shut behind them, Carrie turned to John.

"And you are?"

She held a hand out to him in greeting which he took, feigning a lightness that Felicity knew he didn't feel. Something about this place was off. Something about the entire situation had every warning bell in her head trilling in alarm. But she couldn't put her finger on what it was that was out of place. Carrie'd done nothing wrong. She'd been pleasant, nonthreatening, and seemed normal enough. So what was it about the smile on her face that made the hair on the back of Felicity's neck stand on end? She wondered how she knew that it was forced, how she knew that the entire look of this woman was a façade, she wondered how she could possibly know that everything that she had seen so far was for show. She shouldn't know any of it but Felicity did.

"John Diggle. A friend of Felicity's. I'm just along for the ride."

"Well, it's lovely to meet you both. Have a seat. I'll let Ms. Waller know you're here and we can get started."

Carrie disappeared through a set of heavy doors at the back of the house. The room in which they stood was occupied by a large oblong conference table and nothing else. Windows at the very front of the structure provided most of the light, all of which reflected off of stark white walls.

"This place is very… sterile," Felicity observed, "Everything's a blank slate. There's nothing personal about it at all."

Even the table was stark and modern. The frame gleaming chrome and the top crystal clear glass. The chairs were smooth, lightweight acrylic that nearly disappeared with the way that they blended into the rest of the room.

"There is definitely something off about this place."

She sighed, angling herself towards him even as he took a step closer to her.

"You feel that, too, huh? Glad my bullshit meter isn't the only one that's working at the moment."

John huffed out a laugh even as he pulled a chair out for her. Felicity hesitated for just a second before she sat, her back and feet aching as was usual most days. John had just taken the seat beside her when the doors that Carrie had exited through opened again and another woman appeared. Her expression was cold as she crossed to the table, sitting opposite Felicity and flipping open the file she carried.

"Ms. Smoak, my name is Amanda Waller. Ms. Walker left some very … interesting documents for you in the event of her death."

"I'd love to see them," Felicity stated firmly, "I hadn't – I hadn't spoke to my mother in a decade. We weren't close. I have no idea what she would've left for me. Or why I would need to come all the way here in order to get it."

Waller nodded, her eyes focused on the contents of the file. Felicity's eyes flickered to the man sitting beside her. John was watching Waller with a neutral expression. His dark eyes gave nothing away but Felicity could feel the apprehension rolling off of him. She wondered if Waller could feel it as well.

"Ms. Smoak –"

"It's Queen, actually. Felicity Queen."

Waller's head shot up at that, her own dark eyes widening slightly as she seemed to take in Felicity's appearance for the first time. Felicity wasn't sure what she noticed first, the rings she wore on her left hand or the obvious roundness of her stomach where their baby was growing. Whichever it was, Amanda Waller appeared startled upon discovering that Felicity was married.

"You're not her husband," she stated, addressing John without so much as a glance in his direction.

"And what makes you say that?" Felicity asked.

Waller's expression changed, her mouth turning down in a look of disgust. Her voice remained level.

"You friend introduced himself to my associate as John Diggle, Mrs. Queen. Carrie briefed me of your companion. I am curious, however, as to why your husband would let you come all this way without him."

Felicity clasped her hands together and rested them atop the table. She kept strict control of her expression as she spoke, not willing to give this woman one iota of whatever emotion it was she was looking for.

"My husband has a job, Ms. Waller. I am perfectly capable of traveling without him."

Waller's gaze remained on Felicity.

"But he felt that you needed a bodyguard? That it wasn't safe for you to come here alone?"

Felicity shrugged, "If it wasn't obvious, I'm expecting. My husband worries. And is it? Safe for me to be here? Even with Mr. Diggle accompanying me?"

Silence settled heavily in the room. Waller sat across from her, her fingers drumming out an unconventional rhythm on the glass, her posture stiff. Felicity waited for a reply. There'd been no obvious threat in her words but her delivery had sent a wave of fear cascading along Felicity's nerves. She didn't know anything about this woman but the vibe that she was getting from her hand those alarm bells in her head clanging.

"Why wouldn't it be safe, Mrs. Queen? You're here to learn more about your mother, correct? So, I'll just need your signature on a few documents and then we'll release Meredith Walker's few possessions to you as well as a copy of her last will and testament."

Waller turned the file in front of her and slid it across the table. A pen followed and Felicity caught it, glancing down at the pages that Waller hadn't allowed her to see until that moment.

She skimmed them quickly, reading out the instructions that had seemingly been left by her mother. All of her earthly possessions, however few that there were, now belonged to Felicity. There was no money in the estate, not that Felicity had expected there to be, but the instructions mentioned a letter that was only to be read in the even t of Meredith's death. A letter that had been sealed and placed into a safe deposit box in Baltimore. The key to said box was among the last of Meredith's belongings.

"Sign on pages three and seven, please. I'll have Miss Cutter bring out your mother's things."

Waller pushed her chair back from the table and stood. When Felicity had signed where the other woman had indicated, she pushed the file back to the opposite side of the table.

"Miss Cutter will be out shortly. Have a lovely afternoon, Mrs. Queen. Mr. Diggle."

And then Amanda Waller was gone, vanishing through the same set of doors from which she'd come. Felicity glanced at John.

"Okay, I don't know about you, but I want to get the hell out of here. As soon as we have Meredith's stuff, we're leaving."

John nodded, "I'm with you there, Felicity."

It wasn't long before another set of doors, this one hidden into the wood paneling along the far left wall, opened and Carrie appeared with a single box. She set it on glass surface beside Felicity.

"That's – that's everything?" Felicity asked.

"Yep. That's all of it."

Felicity found herself staring at the box. It wasn't very large at all, no bigger than a standard file box, and she couldn't imagine a world where everything she owned would fit into a box so small. The most important thing in her world was her husband and no way would she be able to fit him in such tight quarters. She wouldn't even be able to put all of her memories into something so miniscule. She felt a pang of sympathy for the woman who had – no matter how poorly - raised her.

"Felicity!"

John's voice shouting her name jerked Felicity out of her ruminations and she spun around.

Carrie was behind her, too close behind her, and the sharp press of something between her shoulder blades had her freezing in place. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see John down on his knees, Waller standing over him with what looked like a sword in her hand. It was an odd choice of weapon as far as she was concerned and it took a long moment for Felicity to shake that thought away and notice the way that its blade glowed.

"Wha – what do you want?" she breathed, afraid to move even an inch because of the weapon being held at her back.

"Where is your match?" Waller demanded, "Where is your husband, Mrs. Queen?"

Felicity blinked. This was about Oliver? These women were attacking them because of her husband? She racked her brain for an explanation.

No, she thought, she asked about my _match._ She knows that we're Marked.

It wasn't just about Oliver. It was about their connection. But did that mean that Meredith hadn't come to Waller? That whatever it was that these woman were giving her, they weren't Meredith's things? Would she ever get any answers?

"I'd answer her if I were you," Carrie encouraged, the pointy end of something digging sharply into Felicity's flesh through the sweater she wore.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out.

"I – I don't know exactly. He's working, he doesn't tell me where he's going!"

Carrie's blade was pressed hard enough to her skin that it broke, a searing pain shooting along her spine.

"Please!" Felicity gasped, her body trembling as she fought the urge to collapse, "Please, don't hurt my baby!"

Carrie cackled, an eerie sound that immediately grated on Felicity's nerves, and she wished that there was something that she could do. She thought that John would attack, that he would use his abilities to protect her and her baby, but he didn't move. He couldn't, she realized, watching the way the light in Waller's blade pulsed as if it were alive. They were trapped, John disabled by some otherworldly weapon and her paralyzed by the very real threat of Carrie Cutter's blade piercing her skin.

Felicity sudden wished she hadn't left her satchel sitting on the floor beside the chair she'd vacated. Oliver's staff was in there. He'd insisted that she take it, that she never leave home without it. Bás, he'd called it. The weapon that had saved her from a demon attack years earlier. Her fingers flexed where her hand hung at her side, itching for the weight of that weapon in her hand. If only she could get to her bag. She would not let these women hurt her or her baby.

"Your match, Felicity. Tell me where I can find him and I promise you, you're baby will be fine."

Carrie leaned into her, her breath ghosting across her ear.

"You, on the other hand…"

She reacted before she could convince herself otherwise. Felicity slammed her elbow back into Carrie's ribs, forcing the other woman to stumble back a step, and she dove for her bag. Her fingers closed around Bás just as Carrie's encompassed her ankle. She was yanked backwards before being flipped onto her back. Carrie dropped her weight onto Felicity's thigh and for the first time, she got a good look at the arrow in the woman's hand. Its heart shaped head was suddenly being shoved against the curve of her belly, not quite hard enough to pierce through the layers of tissue and muscle protecting her baby but enough to cut her skin. She felt the warmth of her blood as it soaked into her sweater.

"You're lucky I don't cut this baby from your belly right now, you little bitch!"

Felicity's fingers tingled as anger surged inside of her. The weapon in her grasp, the one that Carrie hadn't yet noticed, coming to life as the inescapable will to survive flooded her. She was not going to let this psycho bitch hurt her baby. Not a chance in hell.

"Fuck you."

She thrust her arm forward and watched as a bolt of something – electricity, magic, lightening, who knew – erupted from the end of the staff. It crackled in the air and stole the breath from her lungs but it struck Carrie square in the chest, throwing the other woman across the room with such force that the entire building shook as she slammed into the wall. The ground beneath her shuddered with the energy that the weapon expelled. The thick glass tabletop cracked, a large web spreading outward from its center, and Felicity rolled away just as it splintered.

Stumbling to her feet, she whirled to face Amanda Waller where she held John hostage at her feet. Ire colored her expression and the blade she held to his neck seared his skin.

"Let him go," Felicity snapped.

Smoke rose from the place where Waller's sword touched her friend's neck but when Felicity found his eyes, it wasn't pain that she saw there. It was trepidation and surprise and possibly even anger. He had seen her use the weapon meant for the angels. A weapon she wasn't even supposed to know existed. John Diggle understood now what it all meant. He understood that Felicity knew their secret.

"Mrs. Queen, your friend's life is of little importance to me. If he has to die today, so be it."

Felicity didn't wait for Waller to move. She lifted Bás in front of her, feeling its strength as it reverberated along her fingers, sending shockwaves along the tendons in her forearm, across the muscles of her upper arm and shoulder, before the power burst in her chest. A blast of hot air swirled around her, whipping through the enclosed room and taking Waller to her knees. John took advantage, pivoting on one knee and sweeping the sword from Waller's grasp. He was on his feet in an instant.

"Felicity, are you alright?"

She nodded, her hands shaking as she lifted them to clutch Bás against her chest.

"F-fine. I'm fine."

But as she watched John swing the sword he'd taken from Waller, as she watched it cut through the air before plunging into her chest, Felicity felt every last bit of energy drain from her body. She saw Waller's body turn to ash, watched it singe and burn away, just before the world around her went black.

* * *

"Oliver! Oliver!"

She woke shouting his name but he was there, his fingers warm on her cheeks as he cradled her face in his hands.

"Shh, shh. I'm here. You're okay."

She blinked as he came into focus, as the nightmare that had plagued her mind faded away, and she wrapped herself around him as much as possible. He sat beside her at the edge of the mattress with his strong arms wrapped around her, holding her close.

"Wh – what happened?" she gasped, "Where are we?"

The last thing that Felicity could remember, she'd been in the stark white office of Meredith Walker's attorney. And the woman and her associate, Carrie Cutter, had attacked her and John.

"We're in Baltimore," Oliver told her, his hands moving rhythmically along the length of her spine, "John and Tommy went to retrieve the contents of the safe deposit box."

The thirty-odd minutes that they'd been at Amanda Waller's office came rushing back. She'd been given a box of Meredith's sparse belongings which included a key to a safe deposit box that – according to the instructions she'd read - contained a letter from her mother explaining everything. But it had been while she was examining what little was left of Meredith's life that Waller and Cutter had attacked. She had used the angelic weapon that Oliver had insisted she carrier with her to protect herself and her baby. And then to protect John from the wicked blade Waller had threatened him with.

"John knows, Oliver. I – I didn't mean to tell him but she was going to kill him and I – I didn't know what else to do. He saw me use Bás to get away from Carrie and then I used it again to save him…"

Oliver's lips brushed her ear as he held her away from him.

"It's okay, love. It'll be okay."

His eyes left hers for only a moment as he glanced between them at her swollen stomach. Her hands fell to cover her baby.

"Oh my god! Is she alright? It didn't hurt her, did it? When I used the – the thing, it didn't hurt the baby?"

He shook his head, grinning at her even though she could read the wariness in his eyes. He covered her hands with his own.

"The baby is fine. Actually, from what John told me, I think she – or he- might have helped you. That second burst of energy that you used on Waller? John said he's never seen anything like it. He's never seen a _cosaint_ respond to danger that way before. He thinks that you were able to use the baby's power to strengthen Bás' energy."

She blinked up at him again, her head spinning.

"I'm sorry. The baby's _power_? Our baby has POWER? Please explain, Oliver, preferably before my head explodes."

Felicity watched as he tried to smother his amusement at her pending freak-out.

"Felicity, sweetheart, I'm an angel. Which means that our child is part angel. Yes, he or she has some … power. Some ability that they've inherited from me. There's no telling now what it is, exactly, that the baby will be able to do. But I think that she could sense your distress in the same way that Bás did. And she was able to extend what little power she has to you, and that transferred to Bás. Otherwise, that first expulsion of power would've zapped you. You would've blacked out almost immediately. John told me that it was a pretty damn strong blast."

She shrugged, "She threatened our baby."

Oliver pressed his forehead to hers and her eyes slipped closed.

"How is John? Is he … was he mad?"

"At you? No, of course not. You saved his life."

She heard clearly what it was that Oliver hadn't said. John was angry that she knew what they were. Oliver had urged her not to tell anyone what she'd learned about her husband and, inevitably, about his brother and his friend. She was human – Marked or not – and she wasn't supposed to know that her husband was what he was.

A soft knock on the door of their hotel room drew them apart. Felicity sat back against the headboard and tucked the comforter securely around her hips. She was fully dressed, of course, but disheveled and exhausted and she felt exceptionally vulnerable at that moment. Oliver's lips grazed her forehead gently before he headed for the door.

Tommy entered the room alone, a small box tucked under his arm. She immediately looked around him, hoping to find John lingering, and was disappointed when she realized that her brother-in-law was on his own.

"Sorry, sis. It's just me," Tommy said, handing her the box and dropping to sit at the end of the bed.

"John?" Oliver asked.

His brother shrugged, "Mentioned something about checking in with Sara."

The look that Oliver sent her was meant to soothe but it didn't work. He'd assured her that John wasn't upset with her but making himself scarce was clear evidence to the contrary.

"What is this?" she asked, forcing her attention to the item Tommy'd brought her.

She lifted the lid off of the box and stared at the contents. Inside was a single white envelope. It was no bigger than the legal sized ones that their bills came in and its face was blank. Otherwise, the box was empty.

"The letter from my mother."

She lifted it from the box and tore into it without a moment's hesitation. The bed dipped as Oliver took up the space beside her again, his hand resting on her thigh as she read Meredith's words quickly.

 _I thought that I wanted a baby. When I took you from the hospital, I thought it'd be easy, being a mother. I'd heard the nurses talking. Your mother died having you, some kind of complication. I thought having a baby would make him stay but when I brought you home, he took one look at you and you wouldn't stop crying and he was out the door before I could blink. Bringing you home ruined my life. But I couldn't take you back. They'd find out what I did. I didn't want to go to jail, not because of you. So I kept you._

Tears clogged her throat, making it difficult to breathe. The words on the page blurred as the moisture pooled in her eyes.

" _Baby Girl Smoak_."

She glanced at her husband, swallowing down the sob that wanted to escape, and noticed for the first time the tiny hospital bracelet that he held in his hands. It must've fallen out of the envelope.

"She kept my last name," she murmured, "She told me… she said that Smoak was my father's name. She never talked about him except to tell me that his name was the only thing he'd ever given me. I didn't – I had no idea."

She clutched Meredith's letter tightly and continued reading.

 _Las Vegas, Nevada. That's where you were born. If you go to the hospital there, I'm sure you'll find more information. Hell, you've always been good with computers, who knows what you'll find out there on the internet. All I can tell you is that your mother's name was Donna Smoak. It's on the bracelet._

 _You aren't my daughter but you're the only family that I've ever had. When the doctors told me that I only had three months, I knew that you deserved the truth. As much of it as I could give you. You may have ruined my life but I didn't do any better by you._

Felicity crumpled the single sheet of paper into a ball and threw it violently across the room. Anger swelled inside of her. To her last breath, Meredith Walker blamed Felicity for ruining her life. A woman who had kidnapped her, who had taken her away from her birth family, accused her of ruining her life. It was infuriating.

"What a bitch! She – she thinks I ruined her life? Does she have any idea of what she did to me? What her – her _friends –_ did to me? She had no idea how much she fucked me up. I – I –"

"Hey, hey, look at me, Felicity," Oliver's hands were on her face again, drawing her back to him, "You are not fucked up. And no matter what happened in your past, those things have made you who you are today. They've made you this woman that I love, that I married, that I am having a family with. You can hate her forever for what she did to you, I would never try to take that from you, but you can't let her control you. She's dead and you're free. Okay?"

She heaved a breath, her hands trembling where they lay in her lap, and nodded.

"Okay. I – I'm okay."

His hands remained warm on her face, the heat of his skin washing over her like a salve, and she felt her heart begin to slow. She leaned into his touch.

"Not to break up this tender moment or anything," Tommy said seriously, "But what does any of this mean?"

Oliver sighed, moving so that he could sit beside her, his arm around her shoulders as she tucked herself against his side. When they were settled, she answered Tommy's question.

"It means that our theory is right. It means that the Mark is only given to those whose mothers die in childbirth. We have an answer. Well, a part of one, I guess."


	18. Chapter Fifteen

**A/N:** Hello, hello! It's a little later in the day that I typically post a chapter, my apologies. But here we go! Again, another chapter that I (hope) moves this story forward! Your kind words are, as always, very appreciated! And a wonderful thank you to westernbeauty, your continued support means the world! Enjoy!

 **Mark of the Angel**

 **The Fifth Year**

Felicity shuffled into the living room. It was still dark, morning was a long way off, but her persistent bladder had pulled her from sleep. When she had realized that Oliver wasn't asleep beside her and that their newborn baby girl wasn't in her bassinet, she'd gone in search of her family.

There was a single lamp burning in the house and it cast a soft orange glow over her husband where he was stretched out on their sofa. The tiny being that was Artemis Grace was curled against his naked chest, sound asleep as she clutched her father's finger. The picture that they made drew a teary smile from Felicity. She'd cried so much in the last few weeks. In the final month of her pregnancy, in the twenty-two hours of labor that she'd endured, and then after. Her daughter was only three weeks old and Felicity had wept at least once a day since her arrival. They were mostly tears of joy, spurred by the overwhelming sense of completion that filled her as she cradled her baby in her arms. But there'd been frustration, too. Because the first time that her daughter had wailed endlessly for hours and Felicity hadn't been able to soothe her, she'd dissolved into tears herself.

And then there was the doubt. The doubt of whether or not she really could be the mother that Artemis deserved. She had learned so much about the woman who had raised her over the course of the last few months. The woman who hadn't wanted her.

Meredith's words still stung when she thought of them. Felicity had known before she'd read the woman's letter that she hadn't cared for her. She'd been kidnapped as an infant by a deranged woman who had somehow thought that a baby would help her keep a man in her life. A man who had inevitably turned tail and run in the face of a newborn Felicity. And because of Meredith's illogical choice, Felicity had been raised by a woman who had let her be hurt, damaged and degraded without batting an eye.

Felicity knew that she and Meredith were polar opposites in so many ways. She knew that she would never – _could never_ – allow her child to suffer the way that she had. She wanted her daughter, she loved her with every fiber of her being, and just the idea of anything hurting Arti made Felicity's stomach revolt. She wasn't Meredith. Her daughter would have the kind of childhood that everyone deserved, with two parents who cherished her and protected her and fought for her.

But there was an inkling of fear that lived deep in her heart, a tiny spark of doubt that reared its ugly head at the worst times and made Felicity question whether she was capable of providing her daughter with everything that she needed to be happy.

She drifted closer to the sofa, moving as quietly as possible so as not to wake either baby or angel, and lifted Yoda from where he was perched on the back.

"They're awfully cute, aren't they?" she whispered.

He butted his soft head against her chin and she scratched behind his ears. She carried the cat into the kitchen and set him on the counter before retrieving a gallon of milk from the fridge, pouring a small glass for herself and setting a dish in front of Yoda. His motorboat purr was loud in the otherwise quiet space, making her grin.

"I love you, too, buddy."

Felicity ran her fingers along his back as she sipped her milk.

They'd made the trek to Las Vegas just a week after the confrontation with Carrier Cutter and Amanda Waller, two women who –Felicity later discovered – were actually demons in human form. Just thinking about it made a shiver skitter down her spine. She had watched Waller's body turn to ash before her eyes and then disintegrate. She'd witnessed her destruction, promptly passing out afterward. But it was what she had read in the letter left for her by Meredith Walker that had sent her to Las Vegas. And it was there that Felicity had learned a little bit more about the man and woman who were truly responsible for her existence.

Donna Smoak had been a beautiful woman. She'd given birth to Felicity on June 2nd at just past two in the morning. She had died less than ten minutes later. Before her death, Donna had been working as a waitress at one of the lesser known casinos on the Vegas strip. Her husband, Felicity's father Noah, was an engineering professor at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas. At least he had been prior to his death when Felicity was seven. He'd died in a car accident, survived by one child, according to his obituary. That child, she'd learned, had been stolen from the nursery at the local hospital when she was just a few hours old. She'd been taken by an ultrasound technician by the name of Eliza Winters, aka Meredith Walker. At least that was what they'd been able to glean from archived newspaper articles and old news segments. Her kidnapping and Eliza's disappearance had been big news in Sin City for close to a year before the search fizzled out. After that, the story of the missing baby girl disappeared from the headlines and her heartbroken father had tried to go back to a normal life.

He hadn't given up on her though. That much Felicity knew for sure. She'd found multiple sources, some very early online media as well as hardcopies, that suggested her father had set up a reward fund for any information about his daughter. From what they'd been able to tell, Noah Smoak had searched for Felicity until the day that he died.

"Two steps forward, ten steps back," she muttered.

Yoda made a circle on the countertop, arching his back into her touch, and Felicity sighed.

"So we know that the Marked have all lost their mothers during childbirth. One theory confirmed. But … but what the hell is our significance? Why do we – do the Marks – even exist? What's our purpose?"

She shook her head. Her train of thought before dawn was exhausting. She hadn't had a solid night's sleep in three weeks and she didn't suspect she'd have one again for a long time so ruminating on things she couldn't solve on her own at three in the morning didn't do her any good.

Her daughter's soft whimpering drew Felicity's attention and just as she turned to move back to the living room, Oliver sat up with Arti secured against him. His eyes found hers almost immediately and she smiled softly, her feet carrying her to them without any real thought.

"Someone's hungry."

Felicity took a minute to shuffle around and slide the strap of her nightgown from her shoulder before taking the baby girl - who was making her distress known now – from her father's arms, her tiny cries tearing at Felicity's heart. She sat beside her husband, situating her daughter against her breast, and winced as the crying stopped and Artemis latched on. Oliver slid closer and draped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked when Arti had quieted, her eyes closing.

"I couldn't sleep and she started crying so I changed her diaper and brought her out here so she wouldn't wake you."

Felicity hummed, her eyes fixed on the face of her daughter as she ate greedily.

"It's like we've never fed her."

Oliver chuckled, "She does like to eat."

They'd both been in a state of awe from the moment that the nurse had settled their daughter against Felicity's chest in the hospital. Excitement had wafted from Oliver in waves in the weeks leading up to Artemis' birth. Excitement and nervousness and fear. The heightened state of Oliver's emotions had pushed Felicity to the brink, leaving her extremely anxious to meet their daughter. But when she'd finally come into the world, screaming bloody murder at the top of her lungs, and Felicity had finally held Arti in her arms, everything shifted. It was like every piece of her life that had been missing slid into place. And Oliver had looked at her with so much love and wonder in his eyes that she had promptly burst into tears.

It had been weeks and the feeling hadn't left either of them. Every now and then she would catch Oliver staring at her with that same look in his eyes, as if he couldn't possibly believe that she was real. And Felicity understood because she felt the same way. She looked at her daughter with a similar expression.

"What woke you?"

Her head fell to his shoulder.

"Bathroom. And I think I knew she'd be hungry soon. I'm getting used to only sleeping for three hours at a time."

Oliver kissed the top of her head. He ran the tips of his fingers over the fine layer of Arti's hair.

The silence of the early morning was suddenly interrupted by an angry hiss from Yoda. The cat darted from the kitchen to the front door, sliding to a halt. He stood with the hair on his back standing on end and let out a feral growl.

Oliver was on his feet in an instant.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

She turned away from the door as much as possible, shielding Artemis where she was still nursing at her breast. Her heart slammed against her sternum, fear exploding inside of her. No one would show up at their house in the middle of the night. Hardly anyone had their address. But if Yoda's behavior was any indication, there was definitely someone or something at the door.

Oliver's hand clenched at his side and then Bás was there, appearing suddenly as if he'd willed it into existence. Felicity didn't even blink.

Rapid pounding shook the door and she bit back a startled yelp. Artemis jerked in her arms at the sound, her frightened cries filling the room. Felicity's view was obstructed when Oliver stepped in front of her, his large frame completely blocking her and their daughter from whatever was outside.

"Oliver! Oliver, please, help me!"

He balked, his body lurching forward as a female voice called his name. He was at the door in two long strides, wrenching it open in time for a young blonde woman to tumble over the threshold. Felicity registered the agony that colored the other woman's face and saw the recognition in her husband's eyes.

"Sara! What the he-"

"They – they attacked us. John and Tommy and –"

Felicity shot to her feet, bouncing Arti gently in her arms, shushing her as she moved toward Oliver and Sara. She managed to cover herself as she went.

"Where are they, Sara? What happened?" she asked, easing herself to the floor beside Oliver.

Sara's face was chalky, a sheen of sweat making her look sickly. Her gray eyes lifted to Felicity's face, a smile tugging at her lips as she took in the baby in her arms.

"She's beautiful," Sara muttered weakly, "So beautiful."

"Sara! John and Tommy, please," Oliver urged, "Where are they?"

Sara cried out, crumpling forward, and as Oliver caught her to his chest, Felicity's eyes found the source of her pain.

"Oh my god, Oliver… her – her wings."

Someone had severed one of the angel's wings. Her right wing, its stormy gray feathers stained red, was tucked close to Sara's spine while all that remained of its mate was a bloodied mass. The wound was large and fresh, the sight of it sending nausea rolling through Felicity.

"Damn it, Sara! Come on, talk to me! Who did this?"

She heard the desperation in Oliver's voice, the terror. His friend was dying in his arms and his brother and best friend were missing. If their fate was the same as Sara's, Felicity didn't know what they would do.

"Ra's. The – the League."

She watched the color drain from Oliver's face. She didn't know anything about the league that Sara mentioned and she had no idea who or what Ra's was, but the fear that registered on her husband's face struck Felicity hard. She felt it course through her, causing her pulse to pound and the blood in her veins to run cold.

"Sara! Sara!"

The other woman was motionless is Oliver's arms. Blood pooled around her, coloring the rug near the door. Felicity didn't have to check. Sara was dead.

"Oliver…"

He sat beside her with his friend's body held against him. His shoulders were tense, his breathing labored, and while she wanted to reach out to him, Felicity focused more on their daughter who was silent where she lay in her arms. Artemis was awake, staring up at her with bright blue eyes. Her little face was ruddy from the tears she'd shed but she looked undisturbed by the interruption of her so-far normal life. She's three weeks old, Felicity thought, it's not as if she understands what just happened.

Oliver's hand closed around her upper arm abruptly, drawing her away from her daughter's face. He was tugging her to her feet.

"Move, Love. Felicity, move!"

She stumbled to her feet, careful of the baby she held close, and let Oliver pull here away from Sara's body. And from the blinding white light that suddenly emanated from it. It blossomed from the center of her chest, the bright shaft of light shining like a tractor beam and illuminating the entirety of their home.

"What the –"

But Oliver didn't give her the chance to express her disbelief. Without warning, darkness encased her. She felt the warmth of her husband's body where his front was pressed to hers, Arti cocooned between them, but she couldn't make out even the lines of his face as he held her still. It wasn't until she felt the softness that brushed her bare shoulders that Felicity understood what had happened. He had wrapped them in his wings. He had used them to shield Felicity and Artemis from whatever it was that was happening to Sara. She remained still within the confines of his embrace.

The ground beneath their feet trembled and a sudden burst of light illuminated their bare toes. A moment later, Oliver's wings unfurled and Felicity blinked up at him. The blank expression on his face caused a sharp ache to bloom in her chest. She rested her forehead against him.

"She's gone, isn't she?"

He nodded, "Y – yes."

"I'm so sorry, Oliver. Was she – she was your friend."

He sighed, his arms coming around her as he held them both carefully against him.

"Sara was a great friend. One of the bravest people I've ever known. She came to be a _caomhnóir_ after she was killed in a car accident before her sixth birthday. Tommy and I … Tommy and I trained her. We looked after her."

Felicity felt his sorrow, felt it in his words. He didn't tell her much about their work, nothing beyond what she already knew, and she'd never heard him mention Sara's name before, but it was obvious from his current emotional state that he knew her well, that she meant something to him.

"Oliver… Oliver, what happened to them? Who is Ra's? What was Sara talking about? What's the League?"

He sighed. She let him lead her back to the sofa, sitting with Artemis securely tucked to her chest, and glanced quickly at the space where Sara had died. She wasn't surprised to find no trace of the other woman's presence in their home. There was no body. No bloodstain on the rug. Just Yoda sitting in the exact spot where Sara had last been seen. Even the front door had been shut.

"Ra's al Ghul. The demon's head. He is …"

"Satan?"

Oliver shook his head, pacing the floor in front of her.

"Not exactly. The human world has conjured different images of Satan. Of heaven and hell. Of demons and angels. And while not all aspects of those images are wrong, they're all just … jumbled. Ra's al Ghul was once an angel. He turned his back on those that we answer to. He wanted something that went against everything that the angels stand for. He created an army of followers. Other former angels that he recruited to the League. And the evil within them began to take physical form."

"They became demons?"

"Yes."

Felicity swallowed past the bile that wanted to burn its way up her throat. The contents of her stomach pitched about out of fear.

"And these… physical aspects? Are we talking horns and tails and – and scales, or something?" she asked.

Oliver nodded, "Any of the above. Or worse, depending on the level of their depravity. John confirmed that Waller burned when stabbed with the angel blade. It's the only way to kill a demon. Destroy them with their own weapon."

Her head was beginning to ache. Angels and demons. That was the world that she was a part of now. The world that her husband came from.

She shifted the sleeping infant in her arms.

"Felicity, I … I have to go after them. I have to find John and Tommy. If they've been taken by the League, Ra's won't hesitate to kill them."

There was no question that she wanted to protect her brother-in-law and her husband's best friend. She cared for them both deeply. But the idea of watching Oliver leave her, watching him go while knowing that this league of demons had already killed an angel, terrified her. She bit her lip as tears stung her eyes.

"Go. Find them. Just – please just be careful."

Oliver knelt in front of her.

"I will come back, Felicity."

She nodded, sending the first trail of moisture trickling down her cheek.

"I have too much to live for," he breathed, his lips ghosting over her forehead, "I will come back to you."


	19. Chapter Sixteen

**A/N:** Again, just need to take a minute and thank my amazing beta, westernbeauty. You always manage to make me feel better when I write a chapter that I don't particularly like… and to everyone who is still reading (or just getting started) thank you for sticking with me! You're support and reviews mean the world!

 **Mark of the Angel**

She jerked into wakefulness, her heart hammering in her chest as her limbs trembled. Her cheeks were damp with tears. Glancing at the clock on her nightstand, Felicity discovered she'd only napped for forty-five minutes. The room was quiet, the soft sounds of Arti asleep in her bassinet comforting, and she swung her legs to the floor.

Oliver had been gone for three days. It had been three days since Sara had appeared on their doorstep, since she'd told them of the attack on Tommy and John, an attack that she hadn't survived. Sara had died on the threshold of their home and Oliver had set off on a mission to recover his brother and his best friend. She hadn't heard from him. There'd been no texts or calls. No word on whether he'd been successful in finding them, no word on whether either of them was alive.

Yoda wove his way between her feet, purring loudly as if he were trying to comfort her. Felicity scooped him up and held him against her chest.

"He's fine," she murmured, "Oliver is fine. I – I'd know if he wasn't, right? He's my match so if … if something had happened to him, I would know."

 _God,_ she thought, _please let that be true._

There was a soft knock on her bedroom door and she startled, glancing over to find Sin watching her.

The young angel – at least she looked young to Felicity – leaned against the doorjamb. Her jet black hair was cut short, barely reaching her ears, and her dark eyes were clear and bright.

"Are you hungry? I made mac and cheese."

Felicity forced a smile to her face, nodding.

Oliver had refused to leave her and Artemis without protection, without someone that he trusted watching over them. Sin, she'd learned, had been one of Sara's closest friends. The angel had be devastated to learn of her death and even though she'd fought with Oliver about going with him to face the League, she'd relented when he'd tasked her with keeping them safe.

Setting Yoda on the bed, she turned and bent over the bassinet, her fingers trailing gently down her daughter's cheek. She slept on as if nothing were wrong, as if the world wasn't slowly turning upside down. Felicity sighed, grateful that her little girl was too young to understand the danger around her.

She left the bedroom door open, retrieving the baby monitor from the nightstand, and followed Sin's path out into the living room. The girl was settled on the sofa with a laptop open in her lap and a bowl balanced in front of her face. Yoda had found a place on the cushion beside her, pressed to her thigh. Felicity couldn't see what it was that she was watching on her computer and she'd kept the volume low but as Felicity passed, she let her gaze flicker in that direction. Maybe she would convince Oliver that they needed a television.

When Felicity settled at the other end of the couch, Sin closed her computer.

"So… how long have you known about us?"

She shrugged, "A couple of years, I guess."

"How bad did it freak you out?"

Felicity laughed.

"Truth be told, I wasn't that freaked out… it explained so much about Oliver. It was like – like everything made perfect sense after I knew."

Sin shook her head, grinning.

"It's weird, you know? Having someone who isn't one of us who knows about the angels," Sin continued, "I've never met a human who knew that we existed. We're pretty much programmed to keep a low profile."

Felicity nodded, "I understand that. We were together for a long time before Oliver told me. We were already married, actually. He struggled with it. There were times he tried to tell me and I could see the physical pain that it put him in. It was like – like there was a block in his mind that, whenever he tried to talk about being an angel, it sent some kind of shock to his body."

Sin didn't reply. She sat with her bowl of macaroni and cheese – one of Felicity's favorites – cradled between her small hands. Her eyes were focused on Felicity's face.  
"Can I – can I ask what happened to you? How did you become one of them?"

Sin shrugged, "I grew up on the streets in Starling City. My mom was a junkie. She – she OD'd when I was seven. I was in a foster home for about a year when I …"

Felicity swallowed around the lump in her throat.

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

The younger woman shrugged again, her gaze lingering on the bowl in her hands. It seemed, to Felicity, that all of the angels that she had met so far had died tragically. And they'd all died young. The only story she didn't know was John's but she was certain that if she asked, he would tell it to her. But that would depend on whether or not he and Tommy survived. It would depend on whether or not Oliver reached them in time.

"What's it like?"

Felicity glanced at Sin, not realizing she'd let her mind wander, and frowned.

"What's what like?"

Sin nodded toward Felicity's hand where she'd been rubbing her thumb across her Mark.  
"Oh. Well, I – I don't know exactly. It's … intense. There are times when I really feel like I can't survive without him. Like I can't breathe. And that's just crazy. I'm a grown woman, for God's sake. Until I met Oliver, I never let myself rely on anyone. Never let myself need anyone. I didn't… I didn't have the best childhood. I ran away when I was sixteen and found ways to survive on my own. And then Oliver showed up and everything changed."

Her eyes found a photo of the two of them on the night that they'd renewed their vows. It was in a frame on the fireplace mantel, surrounded by a dozen others just like it.

"Sounds scary."

Felicity nodded, "It can be. There are days where I wonder if I've lost myself in him, in our relationship, our marriage. But then I look at this life that we've built and I think about where I would be if he hadn't come for me. We're so happy and having Artemis only added to that happiness. She added another layer to our lives. I wouldn't change it for the world."

The cries of her infant daughter interrupted them and Sin smirked.

"Right on schedule," Felicity sighed happily, hauling herself off of the sofa.

She headed back to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her as she went to retrieve her daughter from the bassinet. Felicity rocked Artemis in her arms.

"Shh, I know, baby girl, I know. You're always hungry," she cooed, bouncing around as she laid Arti on the changing pad at the foot of the bed, "You're like a little piggy. Always eating."

She changed her daughter's diaper with practiced efficiency before settling against the headboard with the infant in her arms. Once Artemis had quieted, suckling happily, Felicity kissed the top of her head.

Sin's question hadn't surprised her. She was certain that the young angel hadn't met anyone like her and Oliver, or any of the Marked apart from them. They were a mystery, even to the angels. Felicity hated mysteries. They bothered her. She needed answers, facts. She wanted to know what the purpose was of the Marked. Now that they had a solid theory as to how they were chosen, she needed to know why. When Oliver returned, when she was certain that Tommy and John were safe, she would enlist Thea in contacting the Marked that they knew. They'd reach out, anonymously of course, and see if they could discover the answers that she craved. Just because she and Oliver hadn't discovered the purpose of being Marked that didn't mean that someone out there hadn't figured it out.

* * *

Oliver hefted the weight of John's body over his shoulder, his eyes never leaving the demons that surrounded him. Bas was secured at his waistband. It had been so long since he'd fought with his own weapon at hand. It was typically left with Felicity for her protection but he couldn't seek out Ra's and the League unarmed. It was why he'd elected to have Sin watch over his family, why he'd insisted on leaving them with a guard even though his wife had protested.

"Oliver, I say it's high time we get out of here."

He didn't spare a glance in his brother's direction. Tommy was alive, wounded but alive, and when he'd broken both men free from their cells, he'd been more than a little uneasy with how simple his mission had been. It had hardly been a challenge infiltrating the hidden city that served as home to Ra's and his followers.

In Oliver's mind, the rescue mission had been too easy.

"And how, exactly, do you expect us to get the hell out of here, Tommy?" he growled.

They were surrounded by a dozen members of the League, all of them shrouded in heavy black robes, and wielding blazing angel blades. Ra's followers – though once angels – had been exiled from Heaven and stripped of their wings. At least, some of them had been. Others kept their wings which, as the evil inside of them manifested, shed their feathers and turned into what appeared to be weathered leathered.

"Up?"

Oliver shook his head, "I couldn't fly in. There's some kind of netting … and it's electrified. Won't kill us but it'll hurt like hell and we can't break through."

An explosion suddenly rocked the complex. Oliver braced himself, barely staying upright with John's weight. The number of demons surrounding them thinned quickly as many of them raced to the source of the blast.

"Please tell me you had something to do with that."

Oliver shook his head again, "Wasn't me. But I think we've got someone looking out for us. Think you can clear a path now?"

"You bet your ass I can. Let's move."

* * *

Felicity sat at her desk. She was supposed to be working, scanning through the forum that she and Thea had worked so hard to create over the years, but the adorable sounds coming from the baby on the sofa distracted her.

Sin sat with Artemis just a few feet away from her, cooing at her infant daughter and pulling silly faces, making the baby smile along with Felicity.

The phone rang, drawing Felicity from the scene that the young angel and Artemis made.

"Hi Thea."

She could practically hear her friend's smile through the phone.

"Hi! I haven't talked to you in days! How are you? How's the baby? I need more pictures!"

Felicity laughed, cradling the phone to her ear as she turned back to the website. She scrolled through the most recent posts as Thea chatted happily, filling her in on what she'd missed since giving birth to Arti.

There were more matches coming in day to day than Felicity could really comprehend. When they'd started the venture of helping the Mark find one another, it would be a good day to have two or three posts. But now, daily, they received nearly a dozen new submissions. Photos of Marks sported by both men and women alike poured in to their inbox with requests to find their matches. It energized Felicity to see the response but that the same time, the recent surge of activity worried her.

She wondered what had changed. In the five years that their site had been active, what had changed to draw the Marked out of the woodwork? She remembered when they first began. She thought of Rosa and her husband, the couple that had been kind enough to offer her her last waitressing job before she'd met Oliver. Felicity had gotten a glimpse of Rosa's Mark and the next day, the couple had disappeared. She still wondered why. Why had the Mark frightened people? Why were the people fortunate (and in her case, Felicity considered it a good fortune) enough to have a match so secretive? For five years she had had the same questions and she hadn't come any closer to finding an answer.

"Hello? Felicity? Did I lose you? Are you drowning in the adorableness that is your daughter? Hello?"

She couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head.

"Sorry, Thea. Just thinking. Listen, there's something I'm trying to work out and I'm going to need your help."

She took a minute to leave the room, trusting Sin to keep an eye on Arti, and stepped onto the deck. Felicity slid the door shut behind her.

"Is everything alright? What's going on?"

Felicity smiled, "Everything is fine, Thea. I just – I've had a lot on my mind the last couple of weeks and there's something I'd really like us to focus on."

"Shoot. I'm listening."

Felicity explained where her thoughts had been circulating. It wasn't as if she hadn't wondered what the purpose of the Marked was prior to Sara's death and the subsequent kidnapping of her brother-in-law and John Diggle. She'd been thinking about it for years. But with the way that their lives had changed recently, with the arrival of Artemis Grace, the questions that Felicity had been able to shove aside were shoving their way to the forefront of her mind. Learning the truth about her parentage had only added fuel to the fire for Felicity.

"You want to try to – to what, exactly? Reach out to the Marked community and take a survey? Ask them what they think the purpose is of the Marks? Question them on how finding their match has changed their lives? Felicity, look, I know you want to know if there was something that could've saved your sister but –"

Felicity bit her lip suddenly. It had been five years and she'd never shared the truth with her friend. She'd been fearful of her own destiny, of the piece of herself that belonged to Oliver, and she'd been terrified of what it meant. Because the reality was, she didn't know. She didn't know what the Mark meant for her or for anyone else. And she'd never explained to Thea that there'd been no sister. There was just Felicity and the arrow-shaped scar on her wrist that matched her to her husband.

"Thea, I… I have to tell you something. I'm Marked. Oliver and I… we're Marked."

Her confession was met with a long, uncomfortable silence. Felicity shifted from foot to foot, watching Sin interacting with Artemis through the sliding doors.

"Thea, say something please."

"Your sister?"

Felicity cleared her throat, "I don't have a sister. That story… I read it online. It's someone else's tragedy. I told you so that you'd help me. I'm sorry."

"All this time and you never told me?" Thea accused, her voice taking on a cold edge that Felicity had never heard from her before.

"I know, I – I don't have an excuse, Thea. Not a valid one. I guess I was just scared. Like everyone else. There's this veiled threat that hangs over all of us. It's why I wanted the site to be built on animosity. I wanted people to feel like they were safe, like we weren't a threat to them in any way."

For the second time in the span of five minutes, Felicity was greeted by silence from Thea's end of line. She stepped to the door, pressing her forehead to the cool glass. Inside, she could see Sin rocking back and forth with the baby in her arms. She grinned at the expression on the young woman's face.

"I have to go."

Felicity straightened, "Wait? What? Thea –"

The call was dropped, the dial tone suddenly beeping in her ear. She held it away from her, staring at it as if she didn't recognize the device.

Felicity stood motionless for a long moment. She didn't know what to do or how to respond. Not that Thea had given her much of a chance. Her friend had hung up on her. It wasn't the reaction that Felicity had expected. Not, she thought, that she had intended to tell Thea about the Mark. Not the way that she had. It had just slipped out. She liked Thea. She enjoyed their friendship and she'd finally gotten tired of lying to her.

Sighing, Felicity slid the door open and crossed the room to the angel who continued to rock her daughter. Artemis snuffled and whined in Sin's arms. Sin looked distressed.

"She's just hungry," Felicity assured her, shifting Arti from Sin's arms into her own.

The baby let out a wail and Felicity bounced her against her chest.

"Felicity?"

"Hmm?"

"I – I didn't mean to listen to that call but… the friend that you were talking to? Her name is Thea?"

Felicity sat on the sofa and draped a blanket over herself to keep from flashing her breast at Sin as Artemis ate. She glanced at the angel.

"Yes, why?"

Sin rounded the sofa and stood on the other side of the coffee table. With her hands tucked into her pockets and her posture slack, she looked no older than seventeen or eighteen. Not that she knew the angel's true angel. For all Felicity knew, Sin could be hundreds of years old.

"About your height, light brown hair, rail thin?"

Felicity glanced at the girl in front of her, frowning.

"Y –yes. How did you know that? How do you know her?"

Sin sighed, "Felicity, did you know that Thea is an angel?"


	20. Chapter Seventeen

**A/N:** It's Tuesday which means a new chapter! I've got to give a huge thanks to the lovely westernbeauty. As always, your input and support means the world to me! TO everyone who has read this, thank you, thank you, thank you! Hope you enjoy this chapter and the ones to come!

 **Mark of the Angel**

They approached the exit with caution. Oliver's muscles burned under the weight of John's unconscious form. Bás was alive in his free hand. Tommy was a foot in front of him, tense and prepared for wherever the next attack would come from.

They'd been moving as quickly as possible, fighting their way through members of the League as they attempted to escape from the mountain compound that Ra's Al Ghul had claimed for his followers. Getting in had been easy. It made sense. They'd let him walk in. They'd wanted him there. Oliver had known before he'd arrived that he was probably walking into a trap. But there'd been no other way. He wouldn't have let Tommy and John remain in the hands of the League.

"Shit."

Oliver stopped suddenly, his eyes sweeping over the line of fallen angels that blocked their path. His brother stood beside him, his own _cosaint_ reverberating in his grip.

"Please tell me you've got a plan."

Oliver shook his head.

"Damn it."

The air above them shifted suddenly, sending heat swirling, as a woman descended. Her leathery wings were extended as her feet touched down. She placed herself squarely between them and the barricade the League had made. With her back to them, all Oliver could see of her was her shiny black hair restrained at the back of her head and the dark expanse of her wings that, he realized belatedly, shimmered.

"I am Nyssa Al Ghul, heir to the demon."

Her voice echoed into the night as she spoke lowly. The words were spoken as a command, as if simply by stating her name and her role in the League, she could control the situation. And, Oliver knew, she could. Because Nyssa was the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul. She was his second in command. So why she was standing between them and her father's army, he wasn't entirely sure. But her presence had caused the members of the League to halt in their actions. A stillness had settled over them.

"These men will leave here unharmed. You will let them pass."

Oliver could see the hesitation that rippled through the line. They'd been ordered to apprehend him, to keep John and Tommy within the compound, and Nyssa was giving them a direct order to contradict her father. And he had no clue why.

"Go. Now."

The order was barked at the men and within moments, they dispersed, clearly as fearful of Nyssa as they were of Ra's.

She whirled to face them, causing Oliver and Tommy both to step back.

"You will leave this place and you will not return," she growled at them.

Tommy glanced at him, confused.

"Why are you helping us?" Oliver asked.

Nyssa's expression was shuttered.

"Sara was my friend. She did not deserve to die. I – I was not able to save her. But I can save you."

Oliver wanted to say more, to ask where the hell Nyssa al Ghul, heir to the demon, had met Sara. And why, of all people, had Sara chosen to befriend one of the fallen. But they had an opportunity to escape, to regain freedom, and Oliver wouldn't let it slip through his fingers. He wanted to get away from the compound. He wanted to return to his wife and daughter.

He nodded stiffly, shifting John's weight over his shoulder, and followed Tommy towards the ridge that would lead them away from this place. When he glanced back, Nyssa stood alone where they'd left her. He felt her eyes on them as his own wings burned free of his flesh and carried him into the night sky.

* * *

Sin sat in the armchair furthest from where Felicity was positioned on the sofa. Artemis had finished eating and had promptly fallen asleep. She was cuddled against Felicity's chest, the nursing blanket now tucked securely around her.

"Maybe she… maybe we're not talking about the same person. I mean, yeah, Thea isn't exactly a common name but that doesn't mean that there isn't more than one woman in this would named Thea."

She was trying to reason with the angel across from her. But Sin was convinced. She was certain that the Thea that Felicity knew, that she woman she had befriended all those years ago, was the same Thea that she had heard of. An angel. And not just any angel, but the daughter of Malcolm Merlyn. One of the archangels. Oliver's boss, as it were.

"If she is the Thea that you think she is, don't you think Oliver would've said something? He would've told me about her."

Sin shrugged, "I don't think so. Not because I think your husband would keep something like that from you, but because I don't think that he knows her. Thea isn't exactly… present in our world. Rumor has it that her father sent her to earth a long time ago to keep watch of a specific charge. She's been assigned to the same person for more than twenty years."

Felicity turned that information over in her mind.

"You don't… You think I'm the charge that Thea was meant to watch over? But why? And why would she let –"

She bit the tip of her tongue to stem the flow of words. If she'd had a guardian angel all of this time, why would Thea have allowed all of the horrible things that she'd experienced as a child occur? The guardians were supposed to protect their charges. There had been no one to protect her. Not until Oliver.

"Look, Sin, I appreciate you telling me this, but I think you've got it wrong. I don't think that the Thea that I know is the same Thea that you're talking about. If she was an angel, I think I'd know."

But even as she spoke the words, Felicity felt the doubt blossom inside of her. She hadn't seen Thea in person in five years. They spoke on the phone regularly and had even had video chats on occasion. But they hadn't been in the same room with one another since that first meeting at the library in Alice, Texas. For all Felicity knew, it was possible that Thea wasn't even in Texas anymore. With cell phones, it wasn't as if she couldn't move around and keep the same phone number. There were so many holes. She had no idea who Thea really was.

"How do you know about Thea? If she doesn't exist" – insert air quotes here- "then how do you even know her name? How do you know that she's Merlyn's daughter?"

"I told you, rumors."

Something about the way that Sin's eyes shifted made a trickle of apprehension slide down Felicity's spine. The angel hadn't given her any reason to be concerned in the days that she'd been their guard but the conversation had shifted and Felicity found herself to be uncomfortable.

The conversation between them was cut short as the front door opened. Sin shot to her feet, her _cosaint_ appearing in her hands, only to back down as a trio of men filled the doorway.

"Oliver!"

Felicity stood quickly, rushing forward into her husband's arms, relief filling her the moment he pressed her to his chest.

"Good to see you, too, sis," Tommy grumbled.

Pulling away from Oliver, Felicity took a quick inventory of her brother-in-law, noting that he looked none the worse for wear. He held most of John's weight against his side with their friend's injuries being more prominent.

Artemis made a soft sound of protest where she still slept in Felicity's arms, drawing her attention away from the three of them.

"Let me go put her down."

Oliver shook his head, reaching for their daughter before Felicity could take her away. He lifted the baby to his shoulder, pressing his nose to the side of her head, breathing her in. She watched as the tension in his shoulders drained away. Tears stung her eyes.

"Lis, you mind if I drop this guy on your sofa? He's heavier than he looks."

John grunted, the first sign that he was even conscious, and Felicity grinned. She was more than thankful that all three of them had come back to her.

"Just try not to get too much blood on it okay? I like that couch."

Tommy took John to the sofa, helping the other man sit before his legs gave out, and as soon as his arms were free, Felicity pulled him into a tight hug.

"I'm glad you're alright," she murmured, "I was worried."

She glanced at John.

"I was worried about all of you."

As Felicity turned back to Oliver, she discovered that he and Sin had moved away, stepping into the kitchen. They were an oddly matched set, the two of them. Oliver was over six foot tall. Sin barely hit five-foot-six. And then there was the fact that her tall, muscular husband, with his thick arms and broad chest, was cradling their tiny baby girl who hardly weighed seven pounds. She couldn't hear the words that they exchanged but she watched Oliver's lips move, Sin's head bobbing in response to whatever it was that he was saying.

She wondered if Sin was telling him about Thea, about her thoughts on Felicity's partner. She shook her head, turning back to Tommy when he sighed loudly, flopping down beside John.

"You okay?"

He nodded, "Yeah, Lis, I'm good."

Felicity rounded the couch, patting him on the head like a child, and met Oliver as he exited the kitchen. The door was closing behind Sin just as she reached him. She stopped in front of him, her hands landing on his waist. He rocked Arti absently.

"Everything okay with Sin?"

"Fine."

She fisted handfuls of his shirt and pulled him closer. Even with Artemis supported against Oliver's shoulder, her soft body braced between them, Felicity relished the heat of her husband as she held him for the first time in days.

* * *

They'd finally been left alone. Sin had vanished almost as soon as she'd been briefed by Oliver and Tommy and Felicity had an inkling that the younger angel would be searching for confirmation that the woman that had acted as Felicity's partner for the last five years was actually the daughter of Malcolm Merlyn. Tommy had left after John had been patched up, his wounds healing almost completely after having a couple of hours to recuperate. And now it was just her and Oliver and Artemis in the quiet of their home.

Felicity stepped into their bedroom, her hair damp and a towel wrapped around her. Her body ached. The fear and exhaustion she'd felt in the days that Oliver had been away were finally catching up to her. Added to the fact that she was the mother of a newborn who insisted on eating every three hours and she felt as if she hadn't slept in weeks.

She stopped at the foot of the bed, smiling at the picture that greeted her.

Oliver lay on top of the duvet, stretched out on his side, the upper half of his body curled around the tiny baby girl that they had created together. Artemis was gurgling up at her father, a toothless smile on her sweet face, and the blinding smile on Oliver's face made her heart erupt in her chest.

She'd feared for him while he was away from her. Before they'd become parents, before Arti had come into their lives, Oliver left regularly to protect his charges. She'd always worried about him, always said small prayers that he would come back to her. But this mission had been different. He hadn't told her much about the League before he'd gone but from what little he had explained, Felicity knew that this excursion was more dangerous than any of the others he'd been on. He was going up against a man who – to the common world – was the devil himself. Ra's al Ghul. The Demon's Head, he'd said. And he'd faced the devil and he'd come home unscathed. She couldn't have been more grateful.

"I love you."

Oliver lifted his eyes to find her where she remained frozen, watching them.

He smiled, "I love you, Felicity."

She forced herself to move then, dressing quickly before joining her family on the bed. She rested her head in one hand while the other reached for her husband. She wove her fingers with his.

"Will you tell me what happened out there?" she asked, "How did you get them back?"

He sighed, his eyes drifting to Artemis when she cooed loudly. That adoring smile remained on his face.

"Getting to them was easy. There's a compound, high in the mountains of Tibet, where the League resides."

She frowned, "I'm sorry, are you telling me that they're here? That the demons live in – in this world?"

Oliver chuckled.

"Where did you expect them to live, Love?"

She shrugged, "I don't know. Hell, I guess."

"Hell… Hell is not what you think it is. To explain it wouldn't do any good. But getting into the compound was simple."

"It was a trap?" she asked, a shiver wracking her body.

"It was. When I got there, Tommy and John were being held in separate cells. Tommy was – he was fine, really. He says that they started with John. All of his wounds were superficial. John was in worse shape. You saw him when we came back. He couldn't walk on his own when Tommy and I pulled him out of his cell."

Felicity swallowed around the lump in her throat. She gripped Oliver's hand fiercely.

"We were surrounded. I didn't know how we would get out. We couldn't fly. They have precautions for that. But someone set off explosion on the other side of the compound to draw the League's attention. We were stopped before we could clear the blockades that kept us on the ground," Oliver explained, his fingers warm where they gripped hers and his eyes on Artemis, "Ra's al Ghul's daughter actually helped us."

"The devil has a daughter?"

Oliver laughed, the boisterous noise startling the infant dozing between them. Artemis' cry pierced the air and Felicity glared at her husband.

"Sorry," he shrugged, releasing her hand to rest over the baby's belly. Felicity leaned over her, pressing a kiss to her head and shushing her gently. When her daughter's soft cries petered off, she raised her eyes to her husband.

Oliver cleared his throat in order to smother what she was sure would've been another laugh.

"Yes, to answer your question. Apparently the _devil_ does have a daughter."

Felicity shook her head, "And she helped you? Why?"

He shrugged again, "Apparently she – she knew Sara. They were friends. I don't even know where they would've met or how they would've come to be friends. Sara believed strongly in what we do. In protecting the innocent. I've never known anyone in the League who wasn't completely opposed to our mission. I can't wrap my head around what it is that Sara and Nyssa would've had in common."

Felicity didn't want to say it but she didn't care how Sara and Nyssa knew one another. The woman had helped saved her husband and brother-in-law and friend. She was thankful for that, no matter what her relationship had been to Sara. She hadn't had a chance to really know the angel whose life had ended in their home but she understood that she had been Oliver's friend. She couldn't imagine how she would feel in his place.

"I'm happy you're home, Oliver."

He closed the distance between them, leaning over Arti to press a kiss to her waiting lips. He rested his forehead against hers and Felicity closed her eyes.


	21. Chapter Eighteen

**A/N:** Again, thank you THANK YOU to everyone who has taken the time to read and review. I always appreciate hearing the feedback (even though I'm awful at replying to comments) and knowing that you guys are enjoying reading this really encourages me to keep going.

Big thanks to **westernbeauty**. She's been the most incredible beta and I am grateful for the fact that she listens to me ramble (through email, of course)!

Oh, and last thing, there's some smut in this chapter. It got a little… um, kinky? I don't know. Please just know that I've never had a baby therefore I know nothing about having sex after giving birth. Except for what I've read on the internet anyway.

I lied, not the last thing. This is a day early. I'm not going to be around tomorrow to post (going to an Ellie Goulding concert!) so I'm posting now so I don't forget. Enjoy!

 **Mark of the Angel**

Artemis was sleeping soundly in her car seat. She'd been calm through her first appointment with the pediatrician, turning fussy only when they'd stripped her down to her diaper to take her measurements. She hadn't even blinked at the prick of the needle that they'd stuck into her foot. Felicity, on the other hand, had nearly vomited at the tiny speck of blood that appeared there before the nurse had covered it with a bandage.

"Oliver?"

"Hmm?"

She was half-turned in her seat, eyes on her daughter's little face, scrunched up as she napped.

"Have you heard from Sin at all?"

Oliver glanced at her, "No. Why?"

Felicity shrugged, shifting her focus to her husband, and wrapped her fingers around his where his hand rested on her knee.

She hadn't talked to him about Thea. About what Sin had told her. She hadn't wanted to mention it until she knew more. But in the three weeks since he'd returned home and Sin had disappeared, she hadn't been able to reach Thea. Her friend wasn't answering any of her calls and although she seemed to be managing the forum that they'd built together, she had pretty much vanished in every other way.

"Before you came home with John and Tommy, Thea called me. We talked about the usual stuff, the site and the submissions that had come in, but then I… I told her about us. That we're Marked. That you and I are the real reason that I was so interested in finding others like us."

Oliver's hand twisted under hers until they were palm to palm. He linked his fingers with hers and squeezed.

"I take it Thea didn't respond well?"

She shrugged, "She hung up on me, actually. Which, okay, I understand. I mean, she found out that I've basically been lying to her for five years. I get her being angry. What's beginning to worry me is that I haven't heard from her since. And I can't get in touch with her. I've tried calling. Repeatedly. And at first I thought she was just screening her calls but then… then I called her yesterday and the phone had been disconnected."

Oliver turned onto the secluded road that led to their home. His eyes were focused on the drive but his fingers flexed against hers.

"I can ask Tommy to check on her if it'd make you feel better."

"It – it would. But there's something else."

When they pulled into their driveway a moment later, Oliver shut off the truck and turned to face her. He reached for her other hand.

"What's going on, Love?"

She sighed, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.

She and Oliver didn't keep secrets. Not anymore. Once he'd confided in her that he was, in fact, an angel, there was nothing that remained left unsaid between them. But she'd been worrying over what Sin had suspected. She had worried about how Oliver would respond. Why would an archangel send someone to keep watch over her when she had Oliver? Had Thea's father sent her to Felicity in order to keep them both under watch? Was it Felicity that he was interested in or her husband?

"After I told Thea and she hung up on me, Sin told me… she told me about a rumor. That Malcolm Merlyn has a daughter. And that his daughter… an angel… her name is Thea."

She lifted her eyes from where they'd been trained on their hands. Oliver's thumb traced her Mark repeatedly, the motion soothing, and Felicity wasn't surprised to find his gaze locked on her. He was quiet for a long moment.

"I've heard that Malcolm had a daughter. That she was the product of an affair ages ago," he confirmed, "Her mother was a mortal. No one knows anything about her, really. None of it is fact. It's all just rumors that have circulated for centuries."

"Her name, though. It's Thea?"

Oliver shook his head, "That isn't a rumor that I've heard before, Felicity. If I had, I would've put it together. I would've urged you to be more cautious working with her. I've never heard anyone call Malcolm's daughter by name."

Neither of them spoke for a long moment. She let what Oliver was telling her sink in. She considered what he said and what Sin had shared.

Felicity felt her apprehension rise.

"Would he – would he send her to spy on us? To keep track of our movements? I don't understand why I'd need an angel like Thea around if I had you. I can't possibly be important enough to need a guardian an –"

"Felicity."

She halted the words that flooded out of her mouth by taking a deep breath. Oliver waited until she'd settled before he continued.

"I can't say that I understand Malcolm's motivation for anything. We don't speak to the archangels on a regular basis. I haven't … actually, I haven't had a conversation with Malcolm since the night that you were attacked. The first time. He came to me that night at the hospital. He warned me that they knew who you were, that they knew that we were Marked."

"The angels?"

He shook his head, "I don't think that he meant the angels. I think he was warning me that Ra's and the League knew about you. He didn't specifically say. He did say that you were important, that you were a part of my destiny and not even the angels would try to interfere with that. He said that you played a vital role in my future."

Felicity felt warmth flood her. She knew how intrinsically they were intertwined. She felt it to the depths of her soul every day. Every time she looked at him, every time he touched her, spoke to her, she felt their connection as if a physical tether existed between them. Felicity understood that they were destined to be together but to hear it professed by a higher being – even one she was beginning not to trust – only made it feel more real.

"Would he send Thea then as an added layer of protection?" she wondered aloud, "Could that be why she came into my life? Is he trying to keep us both safe from the League?"

Oliver sighed, shifting minutely in his seat, and Felicity waited for him to tell her what he was thinking. She found herself leaning over the console between them, her body needing to close the gap.

"I don't know Malcolm well enough to trust him, Felicity. The night that we spoke, it felt like a threat. To me, to us. He made it clear that if I let our marriage interfere with my duties as a guardian, there would be consequences. There's no way to know what his motives would be for sending his daughter to you. If Thea is in fact Malcolm's daughter, then she made her way into your life for a reason. It isn't a coincidence. But until we find her, until I meet her, there's no way for us to know for sure that she's the person that Sin thinks that she is."

Oliver leaned into her, that tether drawing tighter between them, and rested his forehead against hers.

"Is it just me or does it feel like the universe may be out to get us?"

His nose brushed against hers, his breath ghosting over her cheek.

"I should find out what Sin knows," he muttered.

She sighed, "I have to agree. I think that, after the conversation we had, she probably took it upon herself to go searching for Thea. I'm a little worried that we haven't heard from her. It's been three weeks. What if – what if she found Thea and something happened?"

Oliver's arms came around her, pulling her into him even as the edge of the center console dug into her hip, and she wound her arms around his neck.

"I'll ask Tommy to find her. I'm not leaving the two of you. Not again. Not until we know what's happening."

Felicity couldn't argue. She wasn't ready for him to leave them just yet. She wasn't sure she would be any time soon. The three days it had taken for him to find John and Tommy had been hard enough. And while she knew that he would never leave them unprotected, Felicity didn't think she would feel safe without him near her.

They sat in the silence of the truck for a long time, neither of them in any hurry to let go. It wasn't until Arti woke from her nap, her sharp cry startling Felicity so badly that they both laughed, that they unloaded their daughter and all of her belongings and took her inside.

* * *

The information on the screen in front of her continued to scroll. They were receiving new submissions hourly now, photo after photo of the Marked filling the site's inbox, and Felicity was having a difficult time keeping up. Her head ached as she clicked through the attachments being sent, printing each photo off and affixing it to the large corkboard that hung over her desk. She'd found three sets of matches in the forty-five minutes she'd been working, setting up correspondence between Houston and Calgary, Seattle and León, and Glasgow and Minot. People all over the world who bore a Mark reached out through the forum that she and Thea had built in order to find their match. Their website saw thousands of hits a day and Felicity found that she missed the days when there was a little less hustle to her work.

"Thank god I'm used to functioning on so little sleep," she muttered, her tired words reaching only the ears of Yoda where he was perched on the desk at her elbow.

Oliver had been asleep in their bed when she'd woken up to feed Artemis a little more than an hour earlier. He was a great help during the day when it came to their daughter and even throughout the night, changing her before handing her off to Felicity. There wasn't much he could do about the fact that their baby was nursing. When she was hungry, she was hungry, and Felicity was the only one capable of doing anything about it.

She shook her head. He may not be able to nurse their daughter but her husband was certainly fascinated with watching Felicity do it. He liked to be in the room whenever she was feeding Arti. He enjoyed being right next to her, sitting with them on the sofa or in bed, the warmth of his body pressed against her as his fingers danced across Artemis' head. Felicity tried to think of a time when he hadn't been right beside her as she fed their baby but all she could come up with were the times over the course of those three days when he hadn't been home with them. She hadn't asked him what his fascination was with her breastfeeding but it certainly didn't bother her. There hadn't been a question of if she would nurse when she'd been pregnant. She had promised herself that she would try no matter what. Felicity had known that not everyone was able to breastfeed, she understood that, but she'd wanted to do that for her daughter desperately. She was thankful that she hadn't had any problems with it.

Yoda's head bumped her hand where it lay over her wireless mouse. She glanced down at the cat. He sat on his haunches, big yellow eyes looking up at her as he meowed loudly.

"Can I help you with something, furball?" she grinned, scratching under his chin, making that rumbling purr of his kick up, "What do you need, huh? Food? Maybe some milk?"

Stretching as she stood, Felicity scooped Yoda into her arms and padded across the room to the kitchen. She deposited him in his usual spot on the counter, turning to the refrigerator for a gallon of milk.

"Hey."

When she whirled around, she bumped into a solid wall of muscle. Felicity jumped, a startled shriek escaping her, and glared at her husband.

Oliver stood in front of her, his eyes still heavy with sleep, and grinned down at her. The sleep pants he'd worn to bed hung low on his hips and his hair was beginning to resemble her terrible bedhead. The glare faded into a smirk when he plucked the milk from her hand, setting it on the counter behind her, while his other arm banded low across her back and drew her flush against him. Felicity nuzzled into the naked expanse of his chest.

"Hi."

He kissed the crown of her head, his lips lingering, and his hand – cold from the milk he'd taken from her - grabbed at the back of her thigh. Felicity wrapped her leg around his, bringing their hips together. It was difficult to ignore the hard length of him where he was pressed against her. She pressed her lips to his pec, nipping his warm skin. Oliver groaned.

"You didn't come back to bed," he muttered.

Felicity hummed, her exhaustion rearing its head as she sank further into him.

"Couldn't sleep. I was working through some of the posts on the site.

Oliver made a needy sound in the back of his throat and she paused. She hadn't even realized she was doing it but Felicity had been rocking her hips into him as they held onto one another. His erection was thick and solid against her hip and she'd been grinding her pelvis against it. A ripple of desire traveled through her.

He'd been patient. Not pushing and not mentioning the fact that they had gone more than two months without sex. It was the longest he'd had to abstain since their first time together.

Their relationship had always consisted of heightened levels of intimacy and affection. Skin on skin contact was essential for them both. Even though it didn't always lead to sex, Felicity couldn't deny that she needed to touch him almost as much as she needed to be touched by him. The fact that they had always had a healthy sex life was not something that she could – or wanted to - ignore. And the truth was, she missed her husband. She missed the weight of his body on top of hers, the feel of him inside of her, the passion that he exuded when he made love to her.

Her doctor hadn't cleared her for sex yet but that didn't mean that she couldn't give him at least a little bit of the relief that he so obviously craved.

Felicity slid her hand along Oliver's arm, prying his fingers from her thigh and lowering her leg. With his hand in hers, she led him wordlessly to the sofa. She gave him a gentle shove and he sat, watching as Felicity stripped off her t-shirt before settling in his lap. She wasn't quite naked, still donning a pair of boring pink panties and a simple nursing bra but Oliver didn't seem to mind. His hands found her waist immediately, his fingers skimming along her sensitive flesh as they snuck below the elastic of her underwear. His eyes were dark, the blue almost eradicated by his lust-blown pupils, and they were fixated on her as she reached around to unclasp her bra. As the cotton slid down her arms, Felicity felt the heat of his gaze shift to her breasts.

It was so simple for him to go from half asleep to fully aroused and she felt a flush creep up her neck as his hands tightened.

Her breasts were certainly heavier than they ever had been, fuller and much more sensitive. Prior to giving birth to Artemis, she'd always assumed that her butt had been her husband's favorite part of her anatomy. And when he'd grab it in the heat of the moment as he was driving her to the brink… Well, Felicity had never complained about Oliver's love for her ass.

But it was clear by her husband's reaction that his focus had shifted. His breathing changed, his cock hardening.

"Can I …"

She bit into her lip as she watched him, not quite sure what he was asking. It was obvious that he wanted her breasts, whether to bathe them with his tongue or feel their weight in his hands, Felicity couldn't be sure, but she nodded.

Oliver closed the distance between them and Felicity lifted her hands to his shoulders to steady herself. His lips brushed the tender skin around her nipple, avoiding the sensitive bud as he pressed wet kisses into her flesh. His fingers danced along her ribcage until his thumb was sliding along the underside of her breast and she whimpered, overwhelmed by the emotions that flooded her.

He pulled back, gazing up at her with concern.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded, "Keep going. Please."

He did as she asked, his warm mouth suckling too close to her nipple but not close enough. She squirmed in his lap as her fingers tangled in his hair. She didn't know what she wanted him to do. She'd been nursing their daughter for six weeks straight. There'd been a baby latched onto her breast every hour or so for something like forty days and she wasn't convinced that she could push aside the part of her that had been solely focused on providing nutrition for her daughter and allow herself to enjoy her husband's attention. She wanted to think it was weird. She wanted to be turned off by the desire that Oliver seemed to be overcome with.

But when Oliver's mouth finally – _finally_ – closed around the tender tip, she keened loudly and arched into him. She shifted in his lap again, feeling his cock swell where it was wedged between them, and Felicity slid her hand across his abs. She rubbed him through the thin material of his pants.

Oliver growled, the sound muffled by her flesh, and bucked into her touch. She added a twist to her movements just as the pressure on her nipple changed. He suckled, hard, and tears stung her eyes. Felicity's fingers fisted his hair. She couldn't decide if she wanted to hold him closer or force him away. His tongue lavished her nipple as he swallowed hard. He released her with wet pop, making her gasp.

The hand that had remained on her waist slid around to her ass and urged her to rock against his hard thigh.

"O-Oliver."

He nuzzled her other breast, paying it the same attention, and Felicity shuffled around until she was able to free him from his pants. Her fingers closed around his hot flesh, stroking his length with steady pressure, and she cried out when he took a pull from her leaking nipple.

The buildup of pressure in her core surprised her. It came on suddenly, her arousal spiking hot and hard. The noise that escaped her was loud and vulgar and the orgasm that slammed into her shook her entire frame. She gasped for air, the sensation zipping along her nerves making her head swim, and she slammed her eyes shut. Milk gushed from her breasts, running down her torso and filling Oliver's mouth where he was still latched onto the right one.

She squeezed him in her fist, moving her hand rapidly, and it didn't take long before his own orgasm hit, coating her hand.

They sat motionless for a long time, Felicity slumped against his chest, the only sounds in the room that of their heavy breaths. Tears fell from her eyes and she sniffed, burrowing as close to Oliver as possible.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

The words startled her.

"For what?"

She was too exhausted to lift her head but she turned her face into his throat and his stubble brushed against her temple.

"I – I shouldn't have pushed you. We should've talked about it. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Felicity sat up at that, her hands coming up to frame his face.

"Oliver, baby, you didn't hurt me. Far from it, actually."

He pressed a kiss to her jaw, stopping a tear in its track.

"You're crying."

"It's just the hormones, Oliver," she assured him, "I swear. I mean, it hurt a little but that's just because your daughter is a voracious eater. They're a little sore almost all the time. But that… that did not hurt. That was one of the best orgasms I've ever had. It was intense."

He smirked, "One of the best, huh? Guess I have something to work towards."

She laughed, thankful that his worry left so quickly, and glanced down at the mess that they'd made. Her face warmed.

"Oh wow," she murmured.

Oliver's eyes were bright and he stood quickly. Her legs went around his waist on reflex. He headed for their bedroom and she knew his mind was set on the bathroom attached.

"Oliver…"

"We've got a bit before she wakes up. We'll leave the door open."


	22. Author's Note

I'm sorry everyone but, unfortunately, there's no new chapter this week. I've been super busy at work and have just not had any motivation to write for a while. I promise I'll have a chapter for you all next Tuesday. If I can finish one sooner, I might post early. Thank you again for sticking with me on this one and for all of you wonderful comments! I hope I'm not letting anyone down.


	23. Chapter Nineteen

**A/N:** Well first and foremost, I have to say thank you. Thank you to everyone who took the time to comment on my post last week. I hadn't expected much feedback when posting a note that I wasn't actually posting a chapter… but the response actually shocked me. To everyone who took a moment to tell me that it was okay to take a break and to take my time with this, thank you so much. I honestly cried reading your encouraging words. I can't promise that I'll be able to post a new chapter every week as I'd originally intended going forward but I will do my best. And, of course, a huge gigantic thank you to my beta westernbeauty, you're the best!

 **Mark of the Angel**

Felicity watched Oliver from her spot at the kitchen table. She sipped her coffee, her eyes trained on him as he moved around the kitchen, his movements taking on a swaying rhythm that accompanied having an infant. He used one hand to pour coffee for himself while his other hand kept Artemis propped safely against his shoulder.

"I wonder what she'll be like."

He turned at her statement, carrying Arti and his coffee to join her at the table.

Her fingers ghosted across her daughter's back. Arti let out a soft sound, squirming against Oliver's shoulder, and Felicity grinned.

"Will she be artistic? A dancer? Or will she want to play softball or basketball or learn karate?"

Oliver shrugged, "Will it really matter? She's our daughter. No matter who she becomes as she grows up, nothing will change that. You and I will always be here for her, Felicity. She's going to grow up with two parents who love her and support her in everything that she does."

Felicity swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. She couldn't wait to experience everything in their daughter's life. From her first steps to her first words to her first day of school. She couldn't wait to celebrate her accomplishments and nurture her and encourage her. There'd been so many things that her own mother – well, _Meredith_ – hadn't been there for. There had been weeks of her life where her mother hadn't even been around. Felicity had experienced everything on her own. She would not leave her daughter to live life alone.

"I have a feeling she'll be too smart for her own good," Oliver continued, "She's definitely got your brain."

"I'm not that smart, Oliver."

He threw a skeptical look in her direction and she sighed.

"How old were you when you got your diploma? Fifteen. How old were you when you finished your undergraduate degree? Eighteen. You're brilliant, love. I don't know why you try to deny it."

She shrugged, "I know that I'm intelligent. I do. It's just… what have I ever done with that education that I worked so hard for? I busted my ass for years to finish both high school and college and what have I done with all of that?"

"What did you want to do with it?" Oliver asked gently, "Before you and I met. When you'd just finished your degree and had the world at your fingertips, what did you plan on doing?

They'd never really talked about it. Oliver knew that she'd gone to college and he was aware that she'd studied information security. But she'd never opened up about what she'd really wanted to do with her life. Or why she'd given up on it.

"I wanted to help people. I wanted to work for the government, for an agency like the FBI. I thought I could help track people down… I don't know. It seems ridiculous now."

Oliver shifted Artemis from his shoulder so that she was cradled in his arms. He handed her off to Felicity with ease.

"Sweetheart, how can you not see that you are helping people? What you're doing for the Marked, you're changing the lives of the people that you match," he told her, his hands – now free of baby – coming up to cup her face.

"It isn't exactly what I had in mind."

"And?"

She shrugged again, "And I wouldn't change a thing. Not really. If I'd gone into the field that I'd originally planned on, who knows if you and I would've ever met?"

He leaned into her and brushed a kiss to her forehead.

When he stood and headed for the front door, Felicity frowned. He opened the door and Tommy was there. He hadn't even had a chance to knock.

"I come bearing gifts," he announced.

Tommy and Oliver came back to her where she sat and she let Oliver take Arti from her.

"So? Where is she?"

Tommy sank into the chair opposite where Felicity sat at the dining table. He dropped a folder onto the surface between them and she flipped it open, finding a stack of photos inside.

"Did you suddenly decide to become a PI?" she teased, flipping through half a dozen black and white photos of Sin in a strange setting.

Sin making her way down a crowded sidewalk. Sin ducking stealthily into what looked like an abandoned building. Sin ordering a coffee from a random cart. But nothing about Tommy's photos gave away the other angel's location.

"Tell me what I'm looking at, please. Where's Sin? Is she looking for Thea? Did she find her? Are they both okay?"

Tommy shook his head, grinning. He glanced past her, presumably at her husband where he stood in the living room bouncing their daughter. Felicity could easily picture the smirk Oliver was wearing.

"Take a breath, sis. Let someone else talk for once."

Felicity rolled her eyes.

"Your friend Thea is… well, she's interesting. Turns out she's been hiding out in some small town outside of Billings, Montana. From what I could tell, she's been there a while. And you said that the last time that you saw her she was living in Texas, right?"

She nodded, "Yeah. Yes. In Alice, Texas. But – but she's in Montana?"

"She is."

"So these pictures of Sin? Is she there, too? Did she find Thea?"

It was Tommy's turn to nod.

"She is."

Felicity sighed, dropping her head into her hands.

"I don't understand. She's been gone for weeks. If she found Thea, why didn't she come back? Why hasn't she reported in?"

Tommy reached out and touched her arm, his fingers icy where they brushed her skin. It was a sharp contrast from the feel of her husband's hands on her. The way that heat wafted off of Oliver, Tommy's touch could freeze the blood in her veins. She pulled away from him gently and rubbed the spot where his fingers had made contact.

"Hey. Sin is safe. She's fine. If I had to guess, I'd say she's holed up near Thea because she's got her under surveillance. I kept my eyes on both of them for three days. And, if I'm being honest, Thea didn't do much. She barely left her apartment."

Oliver joined them, settling into the chair beside Felicity with Arti sleeping soundly in the safety of his arms.

"You said Thea was interesting. Why?"

Tommy shrugged, "She's definitely one of us. She may not have left her place often but when she did leave, it was from the roof of her building."

Felicity glanced at Oliver. He met her gaze.

"Where was she going?" he asked.

Tommy tipped his head to the stack of photos and Felicity turned through a couple more before Oliver's hand landed on top of hers.

"Malcolm."

Felicity felt her heart leap into her throat. The man in the photo with Thea loomed over her. His dark hair blended into the dark clothes he wore and the overall look made it easy for him to fade into the night. Something about the look on Malcolm's face in the photo worried her.

"This doesn't mean that Malcolm is her father," Tommy threw out, "It just means that they know each other."

Oliver's hold on her hand tightened and Felicity glanced at him. He stared intently at the photo of Thea and Malcolm Merlyn. There was something in his gaze that she recognized. Trepidation. Recognition. Confusion.

"What is it, Oliver?"

He shook his head, "I don't … I don't know. There's something about her."

"Who? Thea? You're never met her. Have you?"

Oliver turned the photo away from them and pushed it across the table. Tommy glanced at it.

"Tell me you don't see that?"

Tommy's gaze settled onto Thea's face in the photograph. His expression didn't change. He examined the young woman and the man she was with. When he looked up at his brother, Felicity was startled to see the same emotions cross his face, with a large helping of hesitation added to the mix. Felicity looked between her husband and brother-in-law, confused.

"Okay, someone fill me in. I'm at a loss."

"She looks like Moira."

Felicity waited.

"The year between my birth and Oliver's, our mother… she had another child. She never made it home. I was barely a year old. I didn't know it was happening. I didn't find out until much later, actually. Until Oliver and I were already … ascended. Each of the angels is given a summary of their past when they're deemed old enough to understand it. We had a sister. She was stillborn, or at least that's what we'd both been told. Our mother named her Theodora."

She turned to Oliver.

"Moira was your mother?"

He nodded, "Thea looks like our mother. She – she could be our sister."

Felicity held her breath as she waited for Oliver to show any reaction. Arti was snoring gently against his shoulder, her tiny fist attached to her open mouth, and Oliver pressed a kiss to her head. He remained quiet, his expression blank as his eyes focused on the French doors that lead into their backyard. Tommy was watching them both quietly.

"Oliver?"

"Is it possible?" he asked, "Tommy, is it possible that this girl is our sister?"

Tommy shrugged, "I don't know. Makes you wonder, though, if she is, does Malcolm know? He's apparently raised her for centuries. He has to know her past. He must know where she came from. So why would he keep her from us? If this girl really is our sister, then why has he been hiding her?"

Oliver raked the fingers of his free hand through his hair and stood. He kept a firm grip on their sleeping daughter as he began to pace and Felicity watched him move. Her eyes followed the lean line of his back, his muscles shifting beneath the cotton of his shirt. His toned legs carried him gracefully across the living room and back. She could see the tension that he carried in his shoulders just as clearly as she could read the questions in his eyes. Whatever they'd thought they would learn about Thea, this wasn't it. Discovering that the sister you'd never had a chance to meet had been alive for a couple hundred years would be a shock to anyone.

And Felicity suddenly wondered why Tommy wasn't responding to the news in the same manner as his brother.

"How long have you known about Thea?"

Oliver's steps faltered as Felicity faced Tommy.

He didn't try to deny the accusation. He simply shrugged.

"I've suspected for a while now. I've heard the same rumors that everyone else has heard. I was curious so I did a little digging of my own," he explained, "And that was before finding out that Thea was the woman you'd been working with. Turns out that no one really knows where Malcolm's daughter came from. Her mother was human. But Thea isn't your typical angel-human hybrid."

Felicity snorted. _Typical?_

Tommy continued as if he couldn't sense her derision.

"She, like the rest of the angels, died at a very young age. She was smothered in her crib just days after she was born."

Felicity shuddered and practically felt Oliver do the same. He had moved to stand just over her shoulder and his warmth cascaded over her.

"Is she our sister?" Oliver asked, his tone edged with steel.

Tommy gave a short nod.

"You're sure?"

"As sure as I can be without a DNA test, Oliver. Thea is our sister."

"And Malcolm?"

He shrugged again, "As far as I can tell, he's her father. Moira had an affair and Thea is the result of that. When she died and ascended, Malcolm protected her because she was his. Why he's hidden her all this time, I can't say. I haven't gotten that far."

The natural heat given off by Oliver's body grew scorching as his ire rose. It licked across even the smallest sections of Felicity's exposed flesh, burning her, and Artemis began to cry. She stood quickly and took the baby from her husband's arms, shushing her.

"I'm sorry," Oliver whispered, bending to kiss their daughter's head softly, "I'm sorry."

Felicity rocked Artemis as her cries quieted, rubbing her back soothingly, and looked between her husband and her brother-in-law.

"Figure this out," she told them both, "And if you're going to fight, take it outside. Don't destroy my house."

She pressed up on her toes and kissed Oliver's scruffy cheek with Arti wedged between them.

"She's alright, Oliver," she assured him quietly, "I think you scared her more than anything. She's okay."

He nodded, giving her hip a quick squeeze, before stepping away. She cast one last look at Tommy before taking her daughter into the other room. She knew that Oliver would tell her everything that he and Tommy discussed later. She didn't need to witness the fight that she knew was brewing. And she felt the need to side with her husband. Tommy should've told him what he suspected from the beginning. They didn't keep secrets. She and Oliver told Tommy everything. She'd found it disconcerting at first, how open Oliver was with his brother, but as she'd grown to love Tommy like family, she'd understood. There was no need to hide from him. She'd thought that he felt the same way about them.

Yoda was curled up in the mountain of pillows stacked against the headboard when Felicity sat down with Artemis. He stretched and purred and padded his way over to her the moment she was settled. His head nudged against the baby's leg.

"Be prepared for some shouting, buddy."

Felicity scratched under his chin and stared at the door.

"I have a feeling it's about to get loud out there."

* * *

John Diggle was a big man. A very large man with arms as big around as tree trunks. But he held onto the tiny bundle of squirmy baby girl with utmost care and something about the sight of them brought an uncontrollable grin to her face.

"She's beautiful, Felicity, really."

"Thanks. The last time you were here you weren't exactly in the right frame of mind to appreciate the baby smell."

John smiled down at Artemis who was staring up at him with wide, wonder-filled eyes. She hadn't been exposed to too many strangers in her short life. The faces and voices she was most familiar with were that of her parents and her uncle so any new person who entered into her life seemed to fascinate her. It was why, Felicity had decided, she'd been so taken with Sin in the days that the young angel had been watching over them.

"Very true."

Felicity sat on one end of the sofa when John sat on the opposite end. He seemed completely at ease with the baby in his arms.

"How are you doing after all of that?" she asked, "I know it's been a few weeks. And I know that being a … well, you know… you recover a lot faster than most. So are you okay?"

He shrugged, "I'm doing fine, Felicity. Pretty much as good as new."

She grinned.

"Good, I'm glad."

Silence descended over them. John was focused on Artemis, letting her hold his fingers and pull them into her mouth. Happiness flooded her as she watched the pair of them.

"There seems to be some tension floating around between Tommy and Oliver. You know anything about that?"

He asked the question without even looking up at her. Felicity turned, drawing her legs onto the sofa and tucking them beneath her.

"Has Oliver mentioned anything to you about Malcom Merlyn's daughter?"

John lifted one solid shoulder, "Possibly."

Felicity rolled her eyes.

"Oh please. You're his best friend, John. He trusts you as much as Tommy. Don't _possibly_ me. Why are we pretending that we both don't know what's going on? Tommy and Oliver think that Malcolm's daughter is their sister. The one who died as an infant forever ago. Apparently, their mother had an affair with Malcolm."

He moved until he was mirroring her position on the opposite end of the sofa. Artemis squealed happily when he lay her on the cushion between them. Felicity leaned over her baby girl and kissed her face playfully, making her screech.

"And she's befriended you. Which is what has your husband so damn worried. Oliver's itching to know why Thea was sent to you. Why Malcolm assigned her to watch over you," John added.

It was Felicity's turn to shrug.

"We don't know for sure that Thea was actually _assigned_ to me. And she's never tried to hurt me. She's been helpful, really. She seemed really invested in helping me find the Marked."

John's expression changed at that and Felicity caught onto his line of thinking quickly.

"You don't think it's me that Malcolm is targeting," she mused, "You think he's after the Marked. But why?"

He shook his head, "I don't know, Felicity. But I do know that there's something different about the Marked. About you and Oliver, specifically. He's the only one of our kind to bear the Mark. There's no explanation for it. No one knows why the Marks even exist. I just can't help thinking that he put Thea in your path for a reason and helping you find the Marked was pretty important to her, right?"

"She was sort of instrumental in the whole thing."

It was the truth. Thea had encouraged her to dig deeper into the Marked. She'd helped build the database from the ground up. She had had a hand in Felicity's venture in discovering the truth from the very beginning. There'd been a level of trust and friendship between them that Felicity had never experienced with anyone else. She'd grown to care for Thea like a sister.

"I don't know what to believe about Thea, John. She's my friend. I – I really thought she was my friend."

Arti's gleeful baby noises filled the air between them and Felicity pushed down the emotions that threatened to choke her. She leaned over Arti again, little baby hands immediately reaching for loose hair, and Felicity cringed.

"We're going to figure this out, Felicity."

She lifted her daughter into her arms and snuggled her to her chest.

"I know. We will," she agreed, "I think this one is hungry. We'll be back."

With a firm hold on Artemis, Felicity headed into the bedroom and closed the door.


	24. Chapter Twenty

**A/N :** Well here we are again! Season 4 is officially over. I won't drop any spoilers for those of you who haven't seen it but… well, I think it's going to be an interesting hiatus. Anyhow, thank you to everyone who took the time to review on the previous chapter! Hope this one is up to par. Of course, thanks to my wonderful beta westernbeauty!

Oh, and because I'm not sure how clear the explanation was in the previous chapter, Thea is Moira's daughter. I just rearranged the birth order of the trio for the purpose of the fic. Tommy is oldest, then Thea and then Oliver.

 **Mark of the Angel**

 **The Sixth Year**

"Ma, ma, ma, ma, ma!"

Felicity grinned and shook her head at her daughter. Arti stood at the edge of her playpen with her little hands wrapped tight around the edge. The big toothy grin on her face made her laugh.

"Yes, baby, momma's right here."

"Ma!"

She shook her head again and turned back to her computer. There'd been over twenty photo submissions in just over a day and she was doing her best to keep up. She'd wheeled the whiteboard that Oliver had bought for her away from the wall early that morning, adding the new names to her expanding roster. It still amazed her daily when she logged into the site how many of the Marked really existed. The number of matches that she'd discovered had soared far beyond what she had ever expected.

"Dada!"

Arti's delighted squeal made her pause and Felicity turned to find her daughter staring at the front door.

Oliver and John had been gone for just over twenty-four hours. He'd checked in the evening before with a quick text, telling her that he loved them both and asking her to kiss the baby goodnight, but she hadn't heard from him since. It wasn't unusual. He'd told her he'd be back the following day and he still had a few hours. But the fact that their little girl was bouncing herself excitedly in the pack-n-play told Felicity that she wouldn't have to wait long to see her husband.

It was an odd connection that neither of them had been prepared for. Felicity was sure that it was due to the fact that Artemis was part angel, but the baby was like a metal detector where Oliver was concerned. It was like she knew where he was no matter what, like she could sense him before he ever appeared.

When the door opened just a few moments later, she wasn't at all surprised.

"Dada! Dada!"

Felicity watched Oliver cross the room to Arti. Her little face was lit with joy, her arms in the air as she screeched delightedly. He scooped her up, lifting her high over his head before peppering her face with kisses. Arti laughed and squealed and patted at her father's prickly cheeks.

"Dada dada dada!"

Felicity shook her head, her cheeks aching from the intensity of her grin. The weight that always settled around her heart whenever Oliver was away dissolved, leaving her lighter and more at ease. She got to her feet, stretching, before padding across the cool hardwood floor to join her family.

Oliver drew her into him with one arm around her waist. She pressed up on her toes to kiss him.

"Welcome back."

"Missed you."

She kissed him again, "I missed you, too."

Artemis made a valiant attempt to tug at the scruff on Oliver's cheeks, making him wince.

"Ow," he grumbled, turning his head and nibbling playfully on the baby's fingers, "Of course I missed you, too, baby girl."

"Da!"

Felicity laughed, sitting with Oliver on the sofa and curling into his side. He held onto Arti's hands as she balanced herself on his thighs.

"How'd it go?" she asked.

He shrugged, "As it was expected to. Any word from Thea or Sin?"

She shook her head.

"Nothing recent. I know that she's worried about Malcolm finding out that she's on our side, but every day that I don't hear from her, _I_ worry."

When they had finally had the chance to confront Thea and Sin without Malcolm being present, when they'd eventually been successful in distracting the arch angel from his daughter, the truth had come barreling out. As they'd already discovered, Felicity hadn't been the only one keeping secrets. They'd learned that Thea had known from the very beginning that Oliver was an angel. She had never met him, which, Malcolm had told her, was the reason she was enlisted to get close to Felicity. They – who _they_ consisted of, Felicity still wasn't sure – had wanted someone who could keep tabs on Oliver and Felicity's relationship. Thea had been planted in her life to get close to her, to befriend her, in the hope that she would become Felicity's confidant. Because there was something about their relationship, their marriage, that concerned them. At least that was the explanation that Thea had been given. Everything else about her assignment had been vague. The one thing that Malcolm had made clear was that she was never to meet Oliver face-to-face. She'd been warned that, should they meet, he would know what she was and her mission would be terminated.

Thea had gone along with her father's instructions and hadn't questioned her mission until Felicity had revealed the depth of her connection to Oliver. When she'd told her friend that they were Marked, Thea had realized that Malcolm had been using her all along.

"You don't have to worry about Thea, she can take care of herself. She's a _caomhnóir,_ a guardian. It's her duty to protect others, she can manage to protect herself."

Felicity peeked at Oliver out of the corner of her eye. His gaze was focused on Artemis but she could see the tension that tightened his jaw.

It hadn't been pleasant, exactly, when they'd sat Thea down and explained to her her lineage. Tommy, Oliver and Felicity had all been there, Felicity the buffer between the siblings, but she hadn't been able to do much about the explosive shouting that had followed the revelation. Not only had Malcolm been using her, he'd also kept her from the only other family that she had. Family that she hadn't known existed. It had taken a lot of persuasion on her part to convince Thea that slaying an arch angel like Malcolm probably wasn't in her best interest.

"Oliver?"

"Hmm?"

He glanced at her.

"Will you do something for me?"

"Anything that you need, love."

She smiled at the term he'd used from the moment that they met.

"Can you stop acting as if you don't care about your sister? As if you don't worry about her just as much as I do?"

Oliver sighed heavily, setting Arti in his lap and shifting further into the sofa. Felicity propped her chin on his shoulder. Their daughter reached for the loose strands of Felicity's hair, chubby fingers grasping tight enough to make her cringe. Oliver helped untangle the baby's fingers. Arti squealed, bouncing happily, and latched onto his t-shirt instead, fisting the cotton and trying to get it into her mouth.

"I do worry. I worry about what she'll do to Malcolm. Thea's temper is… fragile. She flips back and forth so quickly where her father is concerned. If he pushes a little too hard, I'm worried that she won't stop herself from attacking him. She'll give everything away."

Felicity tugged Oliver's shirt free from Arti's grasp.

"You have to trust that she won't, Oliver. She knows how important it is for us to figure out what Malcolm's goal is. Why was he so adamant that she get close to me? Was it really because he wanted more information about our Marks? Because he thought she could somehow glean the truth about what they mean? Or does he think that you're the threat? Thea wants answers just as much as we do. She won't go rogue on us."

For a long moment he didn't speak. He played with Artemis where she remained in his lap, making silly faces at her in order to make her laugh. His fingers dug into her sides with the same purpose.

"We need to know what he wants, Felicity. And we need Thea on our side if we're ever going to figure that out."

It wasn't that she didn't agree with him. She knew that Thea was the key part of their mission to discover what it was exactly that had Malcolm Merlyn so interested in them. But at the same time, Felicity wished there was a way she could simply make him acknowledge the fact that Thea was his sister. Sure they hadn't grown up together and the bond that should exist between them wasn't there. They'd only known one another for a little over a year. But she thought of the way that Tommy spoke of their sister, of the camaraderie that had come so easily between the two of them, and she worried that Oliver was missing out. That he was holding back. They were certainly different people, Tommy and Oliver, and while they'd ascended as _caomhnóir_ together, while they'd lived most of their angelic lives as partners, Oliver had always been much more solemn than his brother.

"It isn't easy for me to just accept her," Oliver sighed, his eyes still trained on Atremis, "Thea, I mean."

Felicity cocked her head at him.

"You're thinking awfully loud over there. Worrying."

She shrugged, "I'm your wife, Oliver, I'm allowed to worry. It was in my vows or something."

His eyes flickered in her direction with a small smile lighting them. He leaned into her to press his lips to her cheek.

"I love you."

Felicity grinned, "I know."

Artemis giggled in the face of their quiet intimacy. She clapped her hands and bounced in Oliver's lap, drawing their attention away from one another and back onto her. A bit of drool dribbled from the corner of her smiling mouth.

"She missed you while you were away."

Felicity brushed her fingers through the soft honey curls on her daughter's head. Her hair was coming in darker every day, taking on more of the golden brown tone of Oliver's hair than Felicity's own light blonde. The baby looked a little more like Oliver day after day.

"I missed her. I missed you both."

The smile on Artemis' face slipped as she broke into a wide yawn, her eyes suddenly drooping. She lifted her hands to rub at them sleepily.

"Somebody is ready for her nap," Felicity mused.

"I'll put her down."

Oliver tipped the baby towards her, giving Felicity the opportunity to kiss the top of her head, before he stood and carried her down the hall. Felicity moved into the kitchen, busying herself with making a fresh pot of coffee until Oliver returned. He slipped in behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I wanted to ask you, who was here with us this time? If you were with John, was it Tommy? He usually makes an appearance at least. He likes to see Arti."

She felt Oliver shake his head.

"No, not Tommy. Tommy is with Thea, actually."

"So who then?"

She turned in Oliver's embrace, sliding her arms around him and hooking her thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans. She had to tip her head back to look up into his eyes.

"An old friend. Her name is Tatsu."

Felicity frowned, "Oliver… what's going on? Why are you asking random people, people that I've never heard of, to stand guard over Arti and me? What are you telling them? How are you explaining to your… coworkers that your wife and daughter need protection?"

He sighed and Felicity watched some unnamed emotion cloud his expression. Tommy and John had been one thing. Oliver's brother and best friend knew that the connection between them was different. That they weren't only husband and wife, but that they were Marked. And while John hadn't been in the know at the beginning, once he'd found out, it had become abundantly clear to him that Oliver's concerns for his family's safety were warranted. But circumstances were changing. When Oliver had gone to rescue Tommy and John from the League and Sin had been assigned the post of bodyguard, Felicity had wondered at yet one more angel being let in on their secret.

"I trust Tatsu with my life, Felicity. And with yours and Arti's. She's on our side."

"Against Malcolm, you mean?"

Oliver hesitated and a thread of panic began to unravel inside of her.

"I – I think that this has gotten bigger than just Malcolm. John and I have been tracking him."

"And?"

He sighed again, "And we know that Malcolm is working with Ra's Al Ghul and the League."

Her next breath got stuck in her throat, choking her. Oliver's hand moved in slow circles along her lower back.

"You're accusing an arch angel of being in line with the devil himself?"

Oliver nodded, "All evidence points that way. We've seen him meet with different members of the League several times in the last few months."

"And you were going to share this with me when, exactly?" she snapped.

She wrenched herself from his embrace and paced the small space of the kitchen. Her heart rate had ratcheted up quite a few beats and Felicity rubbed her hand against her chest.

"This is huge, Oliver! If Malcolm has aligned himself to the League then – then …"

She couldn't make herself say the words. The League had killed Sara. She had watched the angel die in Oliver's arms. They had kidnapped and tortured John and Tommy. They existed without a moral compass and were capable of horrid things. If Malcolm was working with them and he had her family in his sights for whatever reason, it meant that she and her daughter and her husband were on the League's radar. Possibly on their hit list.

She shuddered.

"Hey, hey," Oliver murmured, his strong arms catching her as she made to turn away from him, "This is why I hadn't told you, love. I didn't want you to worry anymore than you already do."

She clung to him. Her anger at being left in the dark – even if it was for the sake of her sanity – ebbed slightly under the strength that Oliver exuded. She felt safe any time that she was in his arms.

"What are we going to do?"

One of his hands threaded through her hair, cradling the back of her head. He held her to his chest and Felicity took comfort in the sound of his heartbeat beneath her ear.

"I've been working on a contingency plan. In case something happens to me."

Her whole body jerked at his words.

"No."

Her voice cracked, her suddenly frayed emotions getting the better of her. One minute she was enjoying a happy moment with her husband and daughter and the next she was being bombarded by thoughts of losing him. Her mind began cycling through a loop of nightmares where Oliver left and never came home.

"I need to know that you and Arti will be safe if – if things don't go the way that we want them to," Oliver continued gently, "There's a safe house. Far from here. Far from everywhere, actually. It doesn't exist on any map. John and I have been putting a plan together for a while now."

Tears welled in her eyes.

"How will I find it?"

He removed his right arm from around her waist, lifting it to show her the thin line of a tattoo along his forearm.

"Coordinates."

Felicity touched the smooth skin, trailing her blunt nails over the new ink.

"I should get one, too."

Oliver nodded, "If you're up for it. I know how much you hate needles."

They were avoiding the oppressive weight that hung in the room. They were discussing the measures to be taken if something were to happen to them. If they were somehow separated from one another permanently. Felicity couldn't bear the thought.

"Oliver."

Her voice was thick with unshed tears.

"I know, love."

She clung to him. Her hold on him tightened and she pressed her face to his chest. The heat from his body seeped into her but unlike so many times before, Felicity took no comfort in it. One thought ran rampant through her mind. How would she go on without him? But she knew that she could. That she would do whatever was necessary to protect her daughter should Oliver be taken from her. She had Artemis to think of, they both did. But that didn't mean that she would ever be whole without him.

"I need you."

" _Baby."_

He was lifting her off of her feet before she could take another breath. She clung to him, arms and legs around him as he carried her through the house and into their bedroom. Arti's room had been an addition that Tommy and John had helped Oliver build, branching off of their bedroom so that she was always close to them, and Felicity was thankful that he'd had the forethought to pull the door shut after he'd put her to bed.

Oliver lay her back on the mattress, coming down over her, and Felicity caught a streak of orange as Yoda bolted from beneath their bed and escaped through the door. She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her.

Oliver paused, smiling as he stared down at her.

"What?"

She snorted, "Yoda. I think we've scarred him for life."

He shook his head, his hands finding their way beneath the hem of her t-shirt, drawing the material up the length of her body. He freed her of it and tossed it somewhere behind him. Her bra followed, leaving her breasts exposed to the cool air of the bedroom and Oliver's heated gaze. He dropped his head to nuzzle the fullness of them before closing his lips around one stiff peak. Her back arched off of the mattress.

Felicity laced her fingers through his hair and held him there, relishing the feel of his teeth scraping across her nipple. Warmth rushed through her. She rolled her hips against Oliver's abdomen, seeking friction, and moaned when the hard seam of her jeans rubbed her clit.

"Oliver," she whimpered, tugging at his hair, "Please."

He sucked her nipple hard before releasing it with a soft pop, moving onto the other and paying it the same attention. She continued to move, grinding her pelvis against him. Oliver snaked one hand between them and palmed her through her clothes, pressing the heel of his hand right where she needed him. Felicity keened loudly and threw her head back. She was keyed up and ready for him. It had only been a day but she'd missed the weight of him on top of him. And the thought of never having him again had pushed her to a desperate place.

She bit her lip hard to stem the sudden tears that threatened to fall. She couldn't think about that now. She wouldn't.

Oliver lifted his head, freeing her tender nipple, and pressed harder against her. She stifled a pleasured wail against his shoulder, an orgasm crashing over her quickly as he continued to stimulate her clit through the layers of clothing she still wore.

He kissed her then, his mouth hot and demanding as it sealed over hers. His tongue brushed along the roof of her mouth before tangling with hers and Felicity thrust both hands into his hair, fisting the short strands. Oliver growled into her mouth. His fingers worked at the fly of her jeans, popping the button and lowering the zipper with practiced ease. He worked the denim and her simple cotton panties over her hips and she kicked to free the garments from her legs. She lay beneath him, naked and wet, while Oliver pinned her to the mattress fully clothed. Her hands dropped to his shoulders and she tugged at the material of his shirt.

"Off," she commanded without breaking their kiss.

He pulled himself away from her and whipped the shirt over his head, sacrificing it to the same fate as her clothes. She shoved at his shoulders, pushing him off of the bed until he stood between her knees, and sat up on her elbows to watch him divest himself of his jeans and boxer briefs. There was something indescribably beautiful about seeing her husband's naked body. Something she hoped she'd never get used to.

When he came down over her for the second time, Felicity spread her legs for him, giving him room to settle between her thighs. His erection brushed against her slippery folds and drew a strangled moan from him.

"I need you, Oliver," she pleaded softly, "Please."

His head dropped to her shoulder, his lips at the hollow of her throat as he grasped his length and pressed it to her entrance. The thick head pushed into her heat and Felicity whimpered, her fingers clutching his shoulders tightly. She lifted her hips encouragingly and Oliver slid into her, stretching her as he buried himself deep. A sob stuck in her throat.

"I love you."

The words were professed softly against the delicate skin of her throat, his scruff abrading her as he spoke. A tear fell, his soft words reminding her that the conflict quickly closing in on them could easily take him from her. Fear gripped her even as Oliver began to move, his hips finding a slow, gentle rhythm. He lifted his head to kiss the corner of her mouth.

"I love you, too, Oliver. So much."

Felicity turned her head into the hand Oliver had pushed into her hair, pressing her lips to his palm. Their foreheads touched and her tears fell as if this was the last time that she would ever make love to him. And, for all Felicity knew, it could be.


	25. The Tenth Year (Again)-(Again)

**A/N:** Once again, the comments on this fic always make my day. You guys have been amazing in your support and as always, I really appreciate it! Also, huge thanks to **westernbeauty** for being the best beta! I love hearing from you after I send these chapters, your suggestions and encouragement mean the world!

One last thing, just so no one is confused, this is a shift to the present. Just another glimpse of the current predicament that Oliver and Felicity are in. We'll jump back in the next chapter.

 **Mark of the Angel**

 **The Tenth Year (Again x2)**

"I need some air. Can we – will you walk with me?"

"Is it safe? I thought that you were supposed to stay inside."

Felicity sighed, "I'm not a prisoner here, Oliver. I'm sure you noticed the lack of armed guards. Besides, if you're with me, I am safe."

She felt his eyes on her as she moved around the room. Her sneakers had ended up beneath the sofa somehow and she sat on the coffee table to pull them on. She found a lightweight sweatshirt, one of Oliver's, and slipped into it. She tucked Bás into the waistband of her jeans, covering it with her sweatshirt.

The cool, damp air of the mountains assaulted her the moment that they stepped outside. At midday in October the sun hung low in the sky and the tall trees that surrounded them cast long shadows on the ground. A chill raced through her and Felicity huddled into her jacket.

"Will you tell me more about our life? How did we meet? Where do we live? I want to remember."

She sighed again and stuffed her hands into her pockets. She desperately wanted to reach for him. The brief moment they'd shared inside had done nothing to soothe the sharp ache in her chest. If anything, touching him again had only amplified her need for him. He was there with her, physically right beside her, and yet so much was missing.

"We met in Arizona almost ten years ago. I was… well, I was running from this asshole that I'd made the mistake of dating," she explained, "And I ran into you and Tommy. Literally."

She recapped the first few months to him as best that she could. She teased him for his stalker tendencies and reminded him of how he'd dropped the bomb of being Marked on her. And the more that she talked, the easier it became. Oliver listened intently and asked questions when she got ahead of herself and left something out. It was odd for her, recounting the last ten years of her life to someone who'd been there, someone who had lived it with her. But it also brought a bit of levity into an otherwise dark moment.

"You left everything behind when I didn't come back."

"I had to."

"What happened to our home? And the cat, did you leave him, too?"

She shrugged, "I don't know about our house. Truthfully, I'd be surprised if it hadn't been raided at least once. I'd be even more surprised if there weren't guards posted around the house just waiting for us to come back. As for Yoda, he's fine. He's with Thea and –"

She bit her tongue hard enough that she drew blood and stopped walking.

"Felicity. Tell me. Please. I know that you're holding back. Who's with Thea? Where are they?"

He had continued walking without her. When he realized that she wasn't beside him, Oliver turned back to her.

"I know you don't remember. You have no idea who I am or what we have but I – I hoped that you could feel it."

"I feel a lot of different things right now, Felicity. Confused and frustrated and – and lost. It feels like someone blindfolded me and all I can see are shapes and shadows. I have this hole. In my head and in my chest. Because you're not there! Because she's not!"

His eyes widened and Felicity's breath stuck in her throat. Something had just happened, something important. But she didn't want to break the moment by speaking. It was clear that something was coming back to him and she needed him to acknowledge whatever it was he remembered.

He took a stumbling step in her direction.

"Where is she? Where's our daughter, love?"

 _I can't believe that she's a year old today. Time is going by too fast. I feel like I'm going to turn around one day and find this beautiful young woman standing in front of me. I want my baby to stay this way forever. Sweet and innocent and kind. It's inevitable that she'll grow up but I just wish I could slow time down and savor these moments even more._

Felicity stood on unsteady legs. She couldn't lie to him about Artemis. But it wasn't only the fact that he had remembered that she existed, he'd also used the pet name she hadn't heard in almost a year. Her heart raced.

"She's safe. She's with Thea."

Oliver expelled a ragged breath and sank down onto the nearest boulder. It was as if the confirmation of their child's existence had drained him. She sat down beside him.

"Wouldn't she be safer here? With you? With us?"

She shook her head.

"I wish that that was the case. I miss her. So much. But I… I didn't want Arti and I to be in the same place if they came looking. I needed her to be with someone who would protect her if anything happened to me."

"And you trust Thea?"

She nodded, "I do. And so did you. Leaving Arti with her was your idea."

He blinked up at her.

"Artemis Grace."

"She's four years old. And she's so beautiful, Oliver. She's our world," she said softly, "But she's safe with Thea. And Thea adores her. She has so many people who love her and want to keep her safe."

Oliver stared at her, his eyes searching, and she knew that he was trying to remember who he was. Who they had been together. Clearly whatever had been done to erase his memories hadn't been permanent. He hadn't needed prodding to remember Arti. He'd felt incompletely without their little girl and that void had triggered his memory of her. At least in part. But she knew that it wouldn't be so easy to bring everything else back to him. Ten years of his life had been taken from him.

"I want to see her."

Felicity swallowed past the lump in her throat and set her hand on top of both of his where they were clutched between his knees.

"I have pictures on a computer back at the cabin. And a couple of videos. I check in with Thea twice a week. She knows when to expect my calls so if I try to call early, she won't answer. And she'll take Arti and run. We have to wait."

Oliver nodded, twisting his hand until he was able to link their fingers. He squeezed.

"What's the last thing that you remember? Before you woke up in your apartment? Before talking to Thea? What do you remember?"

He shrugged, "I was with John. On an assignment. There was an explosion at an office building in San Francisco. We were pulling our charges out of the rubble. There were three of them."

Felicity remembered it clearly. They'd been cramped in the bathroom, Oliver on the floor while she sat on the countertop, the two of them laughing at their daughter who insisted on giving herself a foam beard with the bubbles from her bath. Oliver's phone had gone off mid-conversation. He'd only had a few moments to say goodbye before John had knocked on their front door. He'd promised her three days. He'd disappeared for almost a year.

"It was a Tuesday evening. Arti was in the tub and we were just talking when you got the call. She – she's at this stage now where she keeps telling us that she wants a baby brother. I don't know where she got that from but it became an everyday thing for a while. You told me you'd be home by the end of the day on Friday. I fell asleep on the couch waiting for you. When I woke up Saturday morning and you hadn't come home, I knew that something was wrong. I checked all of the national news outlets online and found out that the damage from the explosion had been contained and that everyone was accounted for. There was no reason that you shouldn't have come home. I tried your cell a couple of times before I really started to panic. And when you didn't answer after two hours, I put the plan into motion. I called Thea first and told her what was going on. I made arrangements for Arti and I to fly out to her, packed as much as I could carry, and took off."

"And you haven't gone back? Either to see Artemis or to our house?"

She shook her head, "No. No, I promised you that I wouldn't go back without you. That was the deal that we made."

He was quiet for a long moment and Felicity watched him, taking in his profile.

"I'm sorry. Whatever it is that we're running from, it's keeping you from our daughter. From our home and your life."

"Oliver, this isn't your fault."

"Isn't it? If I'd just left you alone then –"

She squeezed his hand hard and he glanced at her.

"Hey. Don't do that. This isn't your fault. And even if you hadn't pursued me, something would've brought us together, Oliver. We're Marked. One way or another, we would've found our way together. It was inevitable. And I don't regret a single moment of the life that we've had so far."

 _They're two of a kind, my husband and my daughter. I see them together and I think that she is his mirror image. She has my eyes and she's inherited a propensity for babbling that very clearly came from me but everything else about Artemis is her father. From her wild, adventurous spirit to her kind, compassionate little soul. She and Oliver are two peas in a pod and sometimes I can't believe that they belong to me._

Oliver sighed, "I know that my memories of us aren't there, but there's this feeling that comes over me when I look at you. It's like a magnet in my chest that's inexplicably drawn to you. Is that what it's like for you?"

"Sort of," she grinned, "I've always described it as an invisible string that tethers me to you. It gets shorter and shorter as the years pass."

She leaned into him and set her head on his shoulder.

"God, I hope that this is temporary."

"It has to be. You remembered Arti. You'll remember everything else eventually. Give it time."

She could only pray that what she'd said was true. She needed him to come back to her. She needed him to stand by her so that they could take down the League. Because until Malcolm and Ra's Al Ghul were out of the picture, their family would never be safe.

"I'd like to see the photos you have."

"Of course."

Felicity stood and tugged on Oliver's hand. He rose to his feet, towering over her, and she was in no way intimidated by the way he imposed on her personal space. She felt a spike of electricity shoot through her. Heat flooded her belly, making her shift restlessly. There was never a lack of attraction between them.

She took a step back, putting distance between them in the hope that it would take the edge off of the longing that she felt being near him. Her desire for him, for the feel of his fingers on her skin and his lips on hers, ran rampant through her.

"Felicity, wa –"

Her foot caught on an uplifted root and she stumbled. She would've fallen flat on her ass if Oliver's arm hadn't shot out to catch her. She was suddenly pressed against the hard wall of his chest. Every inch of her body was touching some part of him and that heat she'd felt earlier blossomed into an inferno. The hand that wasn't warming the small of her back slid along her neck, tangling in her hair. If she lifted her chin even an inch, she could kiss him. She bit into her lip hard.

"I can't wait to remember you, love."

She flushed, need cascading over her in a powerful wave.

"You have no idea how much I want that, too, Oliver."


	26. Chapter Twenty One

**A/N:** Okay, first, thank you again for all of the wonderful reviews! You guys are amazing. Second, sorry for the delay. I struggled a little with this chapter and didn't finish it on time to get it posted on Tuesday. And lastly, we are back to the past (the build up to the tenth year). I probably won't do another interlude now. The story will continue forward until Oliver loses his memory of Felicity and Arti.

Lastly, huge HUGE thanks to my beta, **westernbeauty**. You are absolute gold!

 **Mark of the Angel**

 **The Seventh Year**

She placed a cup of coffee on the table in front of John and settled into the chair beside Oliver. Tommy sat directly across from her.

"What's our next move?"

John and Tommy shared a look, a silent conversation taking place between them before Tommy shrugged. Felicity waited.

"We pool our resources. Gather an army."

"And do what with it, exactly? Wage a war?" she scoffed, "A real showdown between good and evil? Angels versus demons?"

"Felicity."

"I'm sorry, Oliver, but that isn't a plan. It's ridiculous. Reckless. Irresponsible. The three of you cannot go up against Ras Al Ghul, the League and Malcolm-freaking-Merlyn without a plan!"

"And who's going to stop us, Felicity? You?"

Her hands landed hard on the tabletop, rattling the cups that sat there. She glared at her brother in law.

"You're damn right I will. Do you know why? Because I will not let my husband go off with a half-assed plan. I'm not going to sit back and watch the three of you take this on like it's a suicide mission. I love you, all three of you, so if you expect me to just sit here and – and let you get yourselves killed, you've got another thing coming."

She continued to glower at Tommy. John and Oliver were silent witnesses to their exchange but Felicity couldn't be bothered to care. She had been riled up since Oliver had come home the previous afternoon and filled her in on what they'd learned about Malcolm. Fear had been festering inside of her, her brain creating a filmstrip of the most horrifying scenarios that it could come up with, and it had set her teeth on edge. She was itching for a fight – more likely an emotional breakdown - and she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold herself together.

The delighted squeal of her daughter drifted in from the other room, the sound lessening the tension between them somehow, and her eyes traveled past John and Tommy to where Thea sat with Artemis on the living room floor.

"What do you suggest that we do, Felicity?"

It was John who posed the question and she sighed. Oliver's hand was warm where it rested on her thigh, offering his support silently.

"Nyssa Al Ghul helped the three of you escape from the League. Who's to say that we can't convince her to take our side in all of this? We could fight them from the inside."

Tommy shook his head, clearly in disbelief, and John looked at her curiously. Felicity wasn't surprised by either of their reactions. Oliver had been resistant when she'd first suggested it that morning. But it was the approach that made the most sense. And the one that offered the best chance of survival for all of them.

"I get what you're saying, but what happens if Nyssa tell her father what we're planning? What's to stop her from double crossing us?"

Thea stood with Arti in her arms and came towards them.

"I think that I can help on that front."

Oliver took the baby from his sister as she joined them at the table. Arti gave them all a toothy grin, clapping her sticky little hands excitedly, and Oliver settled her in his lap. She was all smiles as her big blue eyes took in each member of her family gathered in the small space.

"Malcolm is the reason that Sara is dead. He knew that Nyssa had been in a relationship with an angel. He led Ra's to Sara and he slaughtered her," Thea explained.

"That makes sense. We were ambushed. One of Sara's charges was in danger. We'd gone with her to help. It was a setup. The League focused on Sara and they seemed pretty intent on destroying her," John added, "It was definitely personal."

"And you think that that'll be enough incentive for Nyssa to turn on her father? On the League?"

"Love is the strongest, most potent emotion, Tommy. If Nyssa really loved Sara, finding out that her father orchestrated her murder could be exactly what we need to sway her to our side," Oliver said, "If she really loved Sara, she'll do anything to avenge her death."

"How can you be so sure?"

He shrugged, his eyes finding hers easily.

"Because I'd search heaven and hell for whoever tried to take Felicity from me and they sure as hell wouldn't survive what I did to them."

Her hand landed on his forearm and she squeezed gently.

"We need to approach this with extreme caution either way. She could very easily turn on us. Just because she helped you all once before doesn't mean that she's going to be willing to do it again. She's dangerous. The League is dangerous."

Felicity looked around the table at the group gathered there. She'd grown up without a family. She had been on her own for so long but a lot had changed. She had a husband and a daughter. She had a brother and a sister. And she had John Diggle who had quickly become her family. If working with the daughter of the devil was the only way that they could stay safe, then they'd take the risk.

* * *

The house was finally empty, quiet, and Felicity dropped heavily onto the couch. Oliver lay stretched out on the floor with Arti splayed out on his chest. She gurgled happily and left a spot of drool on his t-shirt.

"Are we going to talk about this? About all of it?"

He sighed.

"I'd rather not."

"But you agree with me? You agree that Nyssa is our best chance at infiltrating the League?"

Oliver lifted Artemis away from his body and she flailed, her little legs kicking wildly as she giggled and reached for his face. He grinned broadly. The way that Oliver looked at their daughter, the joy that lit his face, pulled at that rope that tethered them. She didn't want to think of what her life would be like if someone took him from her, if someone were to sever that tie. It terrified her. The prospect of losing the man that she loved, the other half of herself, shook her to her core. Her daughter could not grow up without her father. Felicity wouldn't let that happen.

"I agree with you, love. But what we're doing is risky. We don't know what Malcolm really wants with us. We have no idea why he's so focused on the Marked. There's no way for us to know what his intentions are. "

She pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin there.

"That's nothing new, Oliver. We've never known much about the Marked. We don't know what their purpose is. It took years to conclusively say that those who are Marked have lost their mothers during childbirth. And even now that we're certain of that, we don't have a damn clue what it means."

He sat up, Arti standing on his outstretched legs. She bounced and babbled absently with her little hands clutching at his fingers.

"I don't think that our Marks are the only reason that Malcolm is so interested in us."

Felicity frowned. It had been their running theory since day one. They had always assumed - because he was the only angel with a Mark - that was the reason that they had been targeted.

"Explain that one to me."

Oliver shrugged, "I think it's something else. I think… I think that it's because you're part angel."

If she'd been standing she would've stumbled. She had no idea what he was talking about or where this new line of thinking stemmed from. But there was something in his words that rang true. She believed him without any explanation. Goosebumps broke out along her arms.

"Why – why would you think that?"

Arti lost her balance suddenly, falling to her butt on Oliver's thighs. She looked up at him with wide, startled eyes, and Oliver chuckled. He pulled her up and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"Because of her. Because of Bás. You shouldn't be able to control my _cosaint_ , Felicity, Marked or not. That weapon is a part of me. A physical piece of my angelic soul. Only an angel should be able to touch the _cosaint_ , let alone wield its power. The charge that Bás gives off should've killed you the first time that you used it."

"It didn't even hurt."

He nodded, "I know. Knocked you on your ass a little bit but I think that that's more a lack of control and training than anything."

"And Artemis? You said that you think I'm part angel because of her. Why?"

At the sound of her mother's voice calling her name, the baby turned her head and grinned. She released one of Oliver's hands and reached for Felicity.

She moved to the floor, sitting beside Oliver and pulling Arti into her lap.

"When you confronted Cutter and Waller in Maryland, you said that the blast that Bás gave off was stronger than before. I know that I said that it was because of Arti, because she would have some abilities being that she's my daughter, but I think that her abilities come from both of us."

Felicity combed her fingers through the curls on her daughter's head. She stared into her sweet face, searching for some sign of the abilities that Oliver was convinced that she possessed.

"I know so little about my family."

Oliver lay his hand on her knee.

"I know. But I… I did some digging. Your mother, your biological mother, she was a halfing. Nephilim. Her father was an angel. Her mother was human."

Her eyes flashed to his.

"What? My … are you sure? How do you know? Is there, like, a registry or something? Is there a list somewhere of all of the illegitimate children of the angels?" she asked, her voice trembling.

Arti's little legs moved where she stood in Felicity's lap. She was oblivious to the cocktail of emotions that raced through her mother. She cooed and smiled and even in all of her adorableness, Felicity couldn't find it in her to be distracted. Her heart was racing.

"Love, there's no list," Oliver assured her, "And why would you assume that angels are only capable of having illegitimate children? There is nothing illicit about our family, our child."

She swallowed hard. Oliver was right. There was nothing seedy or wrong about the family that they'd made. Artemis was the most wonderful thing in her life. And Oliver… Oliver was her everything. He was the other half of her. And their baby was only one of the pieces that tethered them together. She pulled Arti into her chest and nuzzled her nose along her soft cheek. She inhaled deeply.

"I'm sorry, I just… I feel like something new is dropped in my lap day after day. First with Malcolm and the League and now you're telling – telling me that you think I'm part angel?"

He shook his head, "I don't think you are, Felicity, I'm telling you that I know you are."

Felicity knew that it was possible. Anything was possible where her birth parents were concerned. She'd never known them. She didn't know where her mother had grown up or where her father had gone to high school. She didn't know if her mother was a cheerleader or a good student. There were too many holes in her life for her to have any idea of who she was or where she came from. And it frightened her. What if there was a history of cancer in her family? Of heart disease? Of some rare genetic disorder? What if she had passed that on to her daughter?

"Hey, Felicity, look at me."

He spoke the words gently and she tore her gaze from the baby in her arms, meeting her husband's eyes.

"I know that it's overwhelming but you needed to know. _We_ needed to. Especially if your lineage has anything to do with Malcolm's obsession with us. And I think that that's a strong possibility. It's enough of an oddity that you're Marked and that I'm your match. But the fact that you're a quarter angel? That there's divinity in your family tree… it means that you stand out from the rest, love."

She sighed and closed her eyes.

"But I don't want to stand out! I – I just want to be normal!"

Oliver chuckled at her tone which she was certain had come across incredibly whiny. He plucked Arti from her lap and stood, holding out his hand to her. She let him pull her to her feet.

"Let's get out of the house," he suggested, "We can take Arti for a walk. We've been cooped up in here all week."

Felicity nodded, "Let's get her dressed. It's probably pretty chilly out there now that it's getting dark. She needs a coat. And a hat."

"Yes, dear."

Oliver pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before taking a squirming Artemis into her bedroom.

Gathering her own jacket and a pair of sturdy boots, Felicity went through the motions of getting ready to leave the house with her mind on everything except for what she was actually doing.

She knew very little about the Nephilim. Even when she'd been pregnant with Artemis, she hadn't asked many questions. A part of her had wanted to believe that being the daughter of an angel wouldn't make her baby any different. And, so far, Felicity hadn't noticed anything unusual. Apart from her uncanny connection to Oliver, of course. The way that Arti always seemed to know that he was nearby, like she could sense him or something, was a little off. But Felicity hadn't known if that connection between father and daughter was just odd or if it was something more. And she'd never asked.

"Ready?"

Oliver came back into the room with Arti snug in her carrier and strapped securely to his chest. He'd pulled on a zip-front sweatshirt over the carrier, zipping it just enough that the baby's feet and legs were tucked inside. Grabbing her phone from the coffee table, Felicity snapped a quick photo of the two of them, making her husband roll his eyes. She grinned.

"Ready."

When they stepped out onto the front porch, Felicity shivered and pulled up the hood on her jacket.

They lived in the northeast corner of the country, high in the Catskills, and even though spring had officially arrived, the late evening air had a bite to it.

Oliver took her hand and squeezed, offering her some of the natural heat that emanated from his body. They walked in silence for a long while.

"Oliver?"

"Hmm?"

"What do you know about the Nephilim?" she asked, "I mean, I'm not… I can't technically be one, right? Since my father was human and my mother was Nephilim? I'm only a quarter angel but Artemis…"

Their daughter's head swiveled in Felicity's direction, her blue eyes bright at the sound of her mother's voice. Felicity smiled at her.

"She's certainly Nephilim. But she's also _more_ because you're part angel. Arti will be powerful someday. More so than any of the angels in existence today."

"But don't … don't angels reproduce with one another? Can't they have children together?" she wondered, "Wouldn't any of their children be more powerful than our daughter?"

Oliver shook his head, "No, love. To answer your question, it isn't possible for two angels to reproduce. Angels are made, not born. We're powerful because of the gifts that the Maker has given us. We were all human once, all of us mortal. But we were chosen to ascend. We weren't born this way and, because of that, we're not able to create children together. We can have children with mortals, but that's all."

Felicity shoved her free hand into her coat pocket and pressed herself closer to Oliver's side as cool air whipped around them.

"I feel like these are questions I should've asked a long time ago," she mused.

Arti squealed, the noise she made completely nonsensical, and reached for Felicity's hood. She tugged on the material and Oliver had to pry it free of her fist. She squawked unhappily for a moment before setting her sights on his scruffy cheeks. Her hands patted his jaw.

"So wait, can male and female angels have children with mortals? Are there children out there with angel mothers and mortal fathers?"

Oliver nodded, a quick dip of his head before he nipped gently at Arti's prodding fingers, making her shriek.

"Of course," he replied, "The creator isn't sexist, Felicity."

"Oh. Okay. Just checking."

They continued down the tree lined road that led away from their house. She had wondered when they'd first moved upstate why theirs was the only house for miles. She'd learned later that Oliver had purchased all of the land surrounding the cabin so that they could live privately.

Felicity stopped suddenly as a thought struck her. Oliver tugged on her hand.

"Felicity?"

She stared up at him for a moment, trying to put together everything that he'd just told her. They never would have figured it out if not for Artemis. If not for Malcolm Merlyn and his fascination with their bond. If Oliver hadn't discovered that her mother had been Nephilim, there never would've been a basis for the question that she was about it ask.

"Oliver, what if… what if it's all connected? What if the Marked and the Nephilim are all tied together? What if we're all Marked because one of our parents were Nephilim?"


	27. Chapter Twenty-Two

**A/N:** Again, thank you all so much for the reviews. I know that I keep packing on the questions in these chapters but I hope I'm answering a few of them at the same time. A huge thank you to my beta westernbeauty and just a heads up, I am going out of town for a couple of days so I can't guarantee that I'll have a lot of time to write. I can't promise that I'll have a chapter to post next week…

 **Mark of the Angel**

 **The Eighth Year**

Thea sat curled into one corner of the sofa. Felicity was on the floor with Arti in her lap, the little girl gripping tight to the thick cardboard pages of her favorite book. The colorful pictures of Peppa Pig making her smile and smack her hands against the pages. Felicity kissed the side of her head.

"Do you feel like we've spent the last couple of years constantly searching for someone?" she asked her sister-in-law, "I mean, first we were searching for you and Sin after you disappeared on me and now we're looking for Nyssa. Who, being a trained fallen angel-ninja-assassin, is apparently capable of vanishing into thin air."

Thea shook her head, grinning.

"I spent a good chunk of time hiding, not searching. But you can't forget about the last, oh I don't know, eight years that you and I have spent looking for the Marked and scouring for answers? And wasn't there a time when you and Ollie were searching for the woman who raised you?"

Felicity cringed at the nickname that Thea had bestowed upon her husband. He hated it when she called him that and, no matter how many times he'd told her so, she continued on like she hadn't heard him.

Oliver and John had left nearly a week earlier. They'd set out to find Nyssa, tracking Ras Al Ghul's daughter to a remote village on the other side of the world, only to have their journey derailed by a mission involving three of Oliver's charges. They'd left the sparsely populated area in the Himalaya's where they'd been looking for Nyssa and traveled to a densely occupied city on the west coast of India. There'd been a natural disaster of some kind that had left Oliver's three charges in imminent danger. He'd called to let her know that they were changing locations and to let her know when they'd be home. She expected them by the end of the day.

"Yeah, that was … grueling, to say the least. And in the end, she found us. Well, her attorney's did. They turned out to be demons though so, yeah, that whole thing was one giant clusterf –"

She stopped herself, snapping her jaw shut and glancing at her daughter.

Thea laughed.

"Yeah. I can imagine that was an unpleasant surprise. I've heard a little bit about Amanda Waller from my father. Apparently she's the worst of the worst. Ruthless. You've never told me, how did you manage to get away from her?"

"Well, John was with me. And he and I managed to fight her off. He killed her. Or destroyed her because I guess she was already dead, right? Anyway, I had Oliver's _cosaint_ with me when we went to meet her. If you haven't learned by now, your brother is a little bit paranoid when it comes to my safety. But I had his _cosaint_ and I was able to use it to fight her off. And that parasite that worked for her, Carrier Cutter."

Thea stared at her for a long moment, her head cocked curiously to one side.

"You were able to use Oliver's cosaint? Without – without hurting yourself?"

She hesitated. They hadn't discussed their theory about the Nephilim with anyone apart from John. She and Oliver had agreed that, until they had proof, they would involve as few people as possible. But they both trusted John implicitly and they'd needed his help.

"Yeah. And trust me, Oliver found that as odd as you do," Felicity replied, aiming for casual, "I was pregnant at the time and he thought maybe, because she's part angel, she was somehow able to protect me. Like she was the one using the _cosaint_ and I was just … just a conduit."

Thea's gaze shifted to Arti.

"Has she shown any other abilities? Anything else that would make you think that she's inherited something specific from Oliver?"

"Daddy!" Arti called suddenly, throwing her Peppa book away and shoving out of Felicity's lap. She raced to the door as quickly as her little legs would carry her.

Thea giggled, "She knows his name?"

"Uh, no," Felicity said hesitantly, "This is the only thing that we've noticed about her that's… different."

Arti went to the window beside the door and pressed her face to the glass. Her hands left distinct smudges in their wake. She had to admit that Thea's question had been timed perfectly. Arti knew before anyone when her father would return home and Felicity had no doubt that he would appear momentarily.

"What's she looking for?" Thea asked.

"Oliver."

Thea's eyes widened in surprise. She turned to the door and they both fell silent as they waited.

Less than two minutes later, Arti let out a shriek of excitement, nearly toppling over in her haste to greet Oliver as he opened the door. Thea looked on in astonishment.

"Daddy!"

Felicity caught a brief flash of pain in Oliver's eyes before he shoved it aside, smiling broadly as he swept their daughter into his arms and lifting her high over his head. It was her favorite thing and the laughter that accompanied the action was as welcome as the sight of her husband. It had been six and a half days since he'd left them.

"Hi my sweet girl," he said softly, bringing Arti close to his chest and kissing both of her cheeks.

She went to them, meeting them where they stood just inside the front door. Felicity extricated Arti from Oliver's arms and turned to John as he came in behind her husband. He smiled down at Artemis, taking her without being asked.

"Are you alright?" Felicity asked, turning back to Oliver.

The pain she'd seen earlier was visible again through the shield he'd tried to erect. She lifted her hand to cup his cheek, her eyes searching his.

Oliver had been hurt in the field before. It was normal for him to come home with a few scrapes and bruises, sometimes with blood splatter on his clothes, but he healed quickly. His injuries generally faded before she could even question what had happened to him. But that didn't seem to be the case as he shrugged out of his coat, wincing with every small movement. It wasn't until he turned to hang the garment on a hook near the door that she saw the blood soaking through the Henley he wore. It originated somewhere along his shoulder and the sight of it made her stomach churn. She had seen the damage done to Sara's wing, had been just feet from the angel when she'd died from that injury, and Felicity felt her pulse skitter in her veins as she eyed the blood on Oliver's back.

"Let's go into the bedroom," she suggested evenly, "Get you cleaned up. John, can you –"

He nodded, "Of course, Felicity. I've got her."

She felt Thea's eyes on them as she led Oliver into their bedroom, closing the door gently behind them.

"Take off your shirt," she instructed, "I'll get a washcloth."

When she stepped out of the bathroom a moment later with a warm cloth in her hand it was to find Oliver perched on the edge of their bed. He sat slouched over with his elbows resting on his knees. His wings had been retracted before he and John had returned, taking the form of the swirling lines of an intricate tattoo that spanned the breadth of this back. Blood ran in rivulets down his back, much of it dry by that point, but it was the deep incision just an inch from his spine between his shoulder bloods that caused her breath to catch in her throat. Her stomach roiled at the sight.

"What happened?"

Felicity knelt on the mattress beside him. He shook his head and she wasn't surprised when he didn't flinch at the first touch of the washcloth to his wound.

"We couldn't save them. There was an earthquake that struck the center of the city. But it wasn't the quake that did the most damage. It caused a tidal wave that took hundreds of lives. It – it was a true disaster. I've seen a lot of horrible things, Felicity, but this… We were there and there was nothing that we could do. John and I. Tatsu. Tommy. Maseo. Quentin. Barry. There were nearly a dozen of us in total and we couldn't stop it. So many perished and we couldn't help them."

She heard the anguish in his voice. She felt the pain as it drifted off of him. She could see the guilt he felt in the set of his shoulders.

"I'm so sorry, Oliver," she whispered, her hands moving carefully against his skin as she cleaned the incision. It wasn't deep but it was jagged and wider in places than she was comfortable with. If he was anyone else, she would've insisted that he needed stitches.

"And this? How did this happen?"

He sighed heavily.

"I dove into the flood waters at some point to – to rescue a little girl and her mother. It got caught on a piece of rebar from a building that had collapsed. I got them to higher ground. They'll both be fine."

Felicity worried her lip between her teeth, working diligently to patch up his torn flesh before she settled beside him. She took his hand between both of hers.

"It'll heal?"

Oliver nodded, "Eventually. It won't be as quick as the other wounds."

"When Sara… when Sara lost her wing she –"

"I'll be fine, love," he assured her, "Sara's wing was severed by an angel blade. I didn't lose my wing, just injured it. It'll heal. I'll be okay."

She breathed a sigh of release and rested her head on his shoulder.

"Is there anything that you need? Can I do anything?"

Oliver nuzzled the top of her head and squeezed her hand.

"I just need to sleep."

Felicity got to her feet as Oliver shifted to stretch out on his side. She moved to the end of the bed and stripped off his boots, setting them off to the side before covering him with the throw blanket that she kept draped across the chair in the corner. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and backed out of the room. He was asleep before she had even closed the door.

* * *

Felicity lifted the spoon of mac and cheese to Arti's mouth. Her daughter took a big bite, chewing while grinning broadly, showing off tiny teeth and macerated noodles. Thea puttered around in the kitchen, making hot chocolate with too many marshmallows for Felicity and herself. John had left almost as soon as Oliver had gone to sleep.

"How long has Arti been doing that?" she asked, taking the seat across from Felicity at the table.

"Doing what?"

"You know, the whole sensing-Oliver-before-he's-there thing. When did that start?"

Felicity shrugged, "I guess from the time she was old enough to actually hold her head up. That's when I first noticed it anyway. She'd get this look on her face and her eyes would get real big and she'd stare at the door like she knew something was coming. Most of the time, Yoda would be right there with her, sitting beside her on the floor if she was lying on the play mat or on the back of the sofa if I was holding her. Both of them would just sit and stare. Freaked me out, to be honest."

Thea laughed and Arti made a sound of protest, one chubby hand reaching for the spoon that Felicity still held aloft. She scooped up another bite and held it out to the baby.

"Sorry, sweetie."

"And that's the only gift that you think she has? Some… telepathic sense when it comes to my brother?"

She shrugged again.

"I don't know. It's the only thing I've ever noticed that was a little out of place, you know? She's a normal baby in every other way. She eats when she's hungry, cries when she's tired, plays with her toys to keep herself entertained and, when that doesn't work, she chases the cat and tries to chew on his tail. According to her pediatrician, she's hitting all the right milestones. I guess she learned to talk pretty quickly but I think that's probably my fault. All I do is talk."

Thea shook her head and took a sip from her mug. She watched Arti with a smile on her face as Felicity continued to feed her. Every so often Artemis would try to swipe the spoon from her mother which would result in macaroni and cheese soaring through the air and plopping onto the tabletop or onto the floor. Yoda was perched readily beneath the highchair waiting for any stray noodles and Arti squealed and laughed and demanded 'momma, more!' when Felicity wasn't quick enough.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here so much at the beginning," Thea said, "If I had known about Oliver… if Malcolm hadn't been using me, maybe I would've had a chance to meet her sooner."

"Hey, Thea, it isn't your fault. We know what Malcolm was doing to you, what he told you. And you were with me from the beginning, from the minute I found out that I was pregnant."

Thea sighed, "But imagine what it would've been like if we'd been… if we'd been family. If we'd _known_ that we were family. I could've gone shopping with you for maternity clothes and furniture for her room and toys and little outfits."

"Thea," Felicity laughed, "I never even wore maternity clothes, I just wore Oliver's clothes. And, I know how this sounds, but I can't imagine having done any of those things with anyone but your brother. This – her … she's so important to us. Oliver and I, we needed to do all of those little things together. It made it all so real. And you should've seen him in the first baby boutique I dragged him into. He put up a big stink about going into the store but once we were in there... oh man, every onesie he picked up ended up in our cart."

Thea's expression was hidden by the mug as she took another sip of her cocoa but Felicity couldn't help noticing the way her shoulders dropped and her eyes flickered away. She hadn't meant to dash whatever hopes that Thea had had. What she'd said had been the truth. They'd been partners long before she'd learned that she was pregnant, friends even, but if they'd lived closer and had been on different terms she still wouldn't have done the things that Thea was thinking of. Because being with Oliver and experiencing those things with him… he had been the only person that she had wanted to share those moments with.

"I should probably go."

Felicity nodded, the spoon in her hand hanging limply between her and Artemis. Rather than demanding another bite as she'd been doing while they talked, Arti seemed to sense that something had changed between her mother and aunt. She was quiet as her eyes bounced back and forth between them.

"Thea…"

She shook her head as she stood.

"Hey, it's okay. I – I understand. I'll talk to you later. Tell Ollie I said goodbye, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

It only took a moment for Oliver's sister to cross to the front door. She shrugged on her jacket and stepped outside. There was no doubt in Felicity's mind that she was gone before the door had even shut behind her.

She looked down at Arti who was staring up at her with a slightly bewildered expression. The sight made Felicity chuckle.

"Yeah, baby girl, momma feels the same way."

She fed her another spoonful of her dinner and felt Yoda wind his way between her ankles.

"Felicity?"

She started at the sound of Oliver's voice. Glancing over her shoulder, she found him shuffling in from their bedroom, his hair standing up at odd angles and his hands stuffed into the front pocket of the sweatshirt he wore. He looked rumpled and sleepy but she was happy to see him moving around again.

"Dada!"

Arti's lilting voice carried across the house and she bounced excitedly in her seat, squirming to get free and make her way to her father.

"Baby, sit still please."

Oliver mussed her curls as he rounded her highchair. He reached for Felicity, pulling her out of her chair and claiming it for himself. She perched on his lap. He took the spoon from her and handed it off to Artemis. Felicity groaned.

"Oh, honey, you shouldn't have –"

A spoonful of squishy, cold noodles smacked her in the face before promptly falling to the floor.

"Seriously?"

Oliver chuckled, the sound vibrating through her where they were pressed together, and she glared at Artemis. Her daughter's grin split her face from ear to ear. Felicity tried to remain stern but it didn't take long for her to fail miserably, a giggle escaping her before she could stop it. Arti laughed, too, banging her little fists on the tray, causing her bowl to rattle and tip precariously onto its side.

"I'm sorry, love."

Felicity shook her head, "Uh-huh. You knew she would do that."

She turned to Oliver, pressing a quick kiss against his smiling mouth, and extricated herself from his embrace. She took the mostly empty bowl from Arti's highchair to the sink. Arti babbled to Oliver and he talked to her as if he understood her every word. Felicity leaned a hip against the counter, watching them. Their daughter waved her arms around as if to emphasize whatever point she was trying to make and Felicity wonder if maybe there was something she was missing. She thought back to what Thea had asked, if she had noticed anything different about Artemis. Apart from her ability to always sense Oliver's presence, nothing else had stood out to her. But then she thought back to all of the times like this one that she had witnessed, conversations between father and daughter that seemed to flow easily. Was this something else that they shared? Could Oliver really understand what, to Felicity, sounded like normal toddler babble?

"Hey, sweetheart, everything okay?"

She started for the second time at the sound of his voice.

"Hmm? Yeah, yes. Fine."

He stood and freed Arti from her chair, carrying her on his hip to where she was standing in the kitchen. Arti reached for her but Oliver turned her away, teasing her, and she squealed and screeched and let out a string of random syllables that made no sense to Felicity.

An ache blossomed in her chest as she watched them together. There was something so strong in the bond that they shared. She knew that her daughter loved her and that she needed her, but she had to admit to herself that she was just a tad jealous of the connection between them. But at the same time, even through her jealousy, she could see the joy that Oliver took in their daughter, the love that he felt for her. She was his whole world, his universe. Or maybe, Felicity thought, she was the center of it. Artemis was their sun and they simply orbited around her and both of them would do everything that they could to keep it that way.


	28. Author's Note 2

**Author's Note:** Hey all… so, I just wanted to apologize. I have been out of town for the last two weeks and haven't had any time or motivation to write the next chapter. I promise that I'm not giving up on MotA. I have started the chapter but I'm a little bit stalled at the moment. I will post an update as soon as I've finished one, not matter if it's a Tuesday or not Thanks for all of your support while I've stumbled my way through this one!


	29. Chapter Twenty Three

**A/N:** Again, I have to apologize for the long delay in posting this chapter. As I said, I was out of town for a while and RL just sort of got in the way. Thank you to everyone who left words of encouragement on the note I posted, they all meant so much! Thanks again to my beta, **westernbeauty** , you're so awesome! Also, as promised, I'm posting this one early because it's finished. I'm going to try to stick to the Tuesday schedule as much as possible but since you all have been so patient, I thought I'd go ahead and post this one for you.

 **Mark of the Angel**

A throbbing pain rocked through her skull, rippling out from the place where Oliver's elbow connected with her cheekbone, and Felicity cried out as she was pulled from a deep sleep and thrust into wakefulness. She moved quickly, rolling away from him where he thrashed wildly in the bed beside her. She clambered to her feet and lifted one hand to prod gently at her face. Her eyes flew to her husband's face as he ground, the sound tortured, and she ached to reach out to him. But Felicity thought better of it, keeping her distance.

Oliver didn't dream often. There had only been one other time that she could recall seeing him having a nightmare. He hadn't been violent then but the way he'd been mumbling and begging in his sleep had alerted her to his distress. As she thought back on it, she realized that the only time that Oliver had had a nightmare, it had occurred just two days before she'd been attacked by a demon in their home. The memory had a jolt of fear skating down her spine. She didn't want to think that the incidences were related but the thought shoved its way to the forefront of her mind.

"Oliver."

Another sound escaped him, a garbled version of her name breaking as it worked its way out of his throat, and Felicity found herself kneeling on the edge of the bed.

"Oliver, baby, wake up."

His head rolled back and forth on the pillow, his hands fisted in the sheets. She watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest, watched as a bead of sweat rolled across his forehead, and Felicity bit down hard on the inside of her cheek.

"Oliver, please, wake up. Come on, baby, wake up."

She was halfway across the mattress when Arti's sharp cry pierced the air. Their daughter's shriek was filled with terror and unlike anything Felicity had heard from her before. She nearly fell from the bed in her haste to get to her baby, her feet moving as quickly as possible as she cross to her room in three short strides. She slid the door opened with so much force that it bounced back along the track. The curtains in the nursery were shut tight, the room shrouded in darkness, but she could make out Artemis where she stood in her crib, her little hands wrapped around the edge as her body trembled. Felicity wrapped her up in her blanket and lifted her into her arms. But Arti was having none of it. Her sobs turned to wailing as the little girl kicked and squirmed and did everything possible to break free of her embrace.

"Shh, sweetheart, you're okay. You're okay, baby girl, momma's got you."

It wasn't until she carried her daughter back into her bedroom, where she found Oliver sitting up in their bed, his eyes wide and wild, that Felicity realized what it was that her daughter needed.

"Da – da – daddy!"

She moved to Oliver's side of the bed and sat beside him, barely able to keep Artemis in her arms until they were safely on the mattress. Arti launched herself at Oliver, wrapping around him with her tearstained face buried in his neck. Oliver clutched her tight against him and closed his eyes. Felicity could do nothing more than stare. She had no idea what had happened. One minute she'd been sound asleep and the next, their house had erupted in chaos.

She laid a gentle hand on Oliver's forearm where it was banded across Arti's back.

"Sweetheart, what's going on?" she asked softly.

He shook his head, drawing Artemis closer, and pressed his face into her hair. Her body continued to tremble and little whimpers punctured the quiet.

Felicity bent to press her lips to the back of her daughter's head. She wrapped her arms around them both, threading her fingers through the short strands of Oliver's hair. She felt his shuddering breath as much as she heard it and the fact that she didn't know what was causing his distress irked her. Added to Oliver's silence on the matter was the fact that their daughter seemed to be feeling the same paralyzing fear as her father. All Felicity wanted was to make them both feel better, to strip whatever had scared them away and give them comfort. But until Oliver told her what was going on, there wasn't much she could do.

"You're safe, baby girl," Oliver whispered to Artemis, "Daddy's here. You're safe."

Felicity shuddered, her nails digging into his scalp.

"Oliver…"

He shook his head again, lifting his face until their eyes met. The horror that she saw reflected back at her sent her heart rate soaring.

The sound of breaking glass caused her to start, her head whipping toward their bedroom door.

"Felicity," Oliver growled, thrusting Artemis towards her.

Their daughter screamed, reaching for him, but he was on his feet in an instant. Felicity stood, too, her grip on Arti deathly tight as the she thrashed in her embrace. Panic gripped her.

"Ol –"

He turned to her, his hands clasping Artemis' face carefully.

"Momma is going to protect you, baby girl. Go with Momma. Can you be quiet for me?"

Their daughter fell silent, her soft sniffles the only sound that gave away her terror, and nodded. Felicity was astounded by the exchange.

"Take her into the closet and lock the door."

She nodded, "Be careful, Oliver. Please."

Felicity moved into the nursery with Arti clutched tight to her chest. Her daughter was quiet and still but her little body was tense. She gripped at the collar of the t-shirt Felicity wore. Carrying her into the small closet on the far side of the room, Felicity shut the door firmly behind her, throwing the deadbolt.

The room had been a sticking point when they'd been remodeling. Oliver had insisted on it, on building a panic room of sorts into their daughter's bedroom. It had made Felicity sick to think that they would ever need it. And, up until that moment, they hadn't. But the look in Oliver's eyes when he'd hugged their little girl against him had frightened her. And then there'd been the sound of breaking glass and the heat that had billowed up around them as Oliver's fear had swelled. She'd known the moment the noise had crept into the darkness that there was danger in their home. And the panic room would finally have a chance to serve its purpose.

She slid to the floor with her back against the wall, keeping Arti safely tucked against her.

"Daddy," her daughter whimpered, the first words she'd spoken since Oliver had handed her over.

Felicity kissed the side of her head.

"Daddy will be okay, baby girl," she whispered, "But we have to be quiet alright?"

Hot tears slid along her neck and under the material of her shirt. Arti nodded, inhaling raggedly, and Felicity rubbed slow circles along her back.

She kept her eyes glued to the door in front of her. It was a solid door, some kind of Brazilian hardwood with a reinforced steel core, and Felicity knew that there was no way that anyone or anything could get inside. Oliver had designed it that way. But that knowledge didn't stop her heart from hammering in her chest as fear sent blood surging through her veins. The room was well insulated. She couldn't hear a sound from outside of the closet. She had no idea who – if anyone – was in their home or if Oliver was in trouble. She shuddered.

There was a dull thud against the door and Felicity jolted, pressing further into the wall at her back. The thud was followed by a muffled yowl of pain, a sound so raw that it barely registered as human, and she held her breath. The panic room was air and light tight with vents pumping oxygen in over her head. The walls and door were reinforced, the only way to get inside was an electronic panel that could only be accessed from the inside. No one was getting in without her help.

Another thud sounded against the door. She bit down on her tongue to keep quiet and clutched Artemis tighter to her chest. Felicity turned away from the door, shielding her daughter.

"Daddy," Arti muttered, "Want daddy."

"Shh, baby, I know. Daddy's going to be okay. He'll be here soon."

A sudden blast from outside of the panic room shook the walls around them. Arti screamed, her terrified cry ringing loudly in Felicity's ears, and she pressed her face into the hollow of Felicity's throat.

She braced herself against the back wall with Artemis tucked against her body. Whatever was happening, Felicity knew it wasn't over. Oliver wasn't winning. Whoever it was, they were going to breach the door and she would be the only line of defense between her daughter and their attacker.

The second blast rocked the house. Debris fell from the ceiling as the light in the small space flickered. Artemis' cries grew louder. Felicity couldn't stop her own frightened gasp from breaking through her lips. She swallowed hard and hid Arti's face with her hand on the back of her head. She felt her daughter's tremors as they shook her small frame.

The light bulb overhead popped, cloaking them in darkness, and one final blast sounded. The thick steel door gave way and let in a cloud of black smoke. She only caught a glimpse of a silhouette before something hard and heavy collided with her skull.

* * *

Awareness slammed into her with the force of a freight train and Felicity woke up gasping, Oliver's name a desperate cry as it left her lips.

"Hey, hey, you're okay."

He was beside her then, hovering over her where she lay stretched out on a hospital bed. Her head was pounding in time with her racing heart. The florescent hospital lights had her squinting and turning her face into Oliver's arm. The last moments that she could remember before blacking out swam in front of her eyes. The terrified cries of her daughter echoed in her ears.

"Arti!" she gasped, clutching his shirtsleeve, "Where's Arti?"

Felicity struggled to move, to sit up and extract herself from the bed. She needed to find her baby.

"Felicity, love, stop. Stop. She's fine," Oliver assured her.

His fingers trailed through her hair, ghosting over her scalp, and the movement calmed her.

"John has her. They're out in the hallway. She's already been checked out by the doctor. Artemis is perfectly fine. She's got a couple of superficial scratches and she's scared but other than that, she's okay."

She let Oliver guide her back onto the thin mattress. Her chest and shoulders ached, the pain a deep throb that radiated through her entire body. She knew that the heavy door of the panic room had been blasted inward, that it had fallen on top of her where she'd been shielding Artemis between herself and the wall. The impact must have been what had knocked her out. Her body would be covered in bruises.

"What happened?"

Oliver sighed. He leaned over her, one arm above her head on the bed with his fingers still combing through her hair. His other hand cupped her jaw and his lips were warm where they brushed against her forehead.

"Another demon," he explained softly.

"The League?"

He shook his head, "I don't know. It's likely but… if I had to guess, and that's all I can do at the moment, I'd say that this had something to do with Amanda Waller."

Oliver shifted so that he was sitting beside her. He clasped her right hand in both of his, careful of the IV that had been stuck under her skin.

"But she's dead. I watched John – I saw him destroy her, Oliver."

"I know, love."

Felicity shook her head, "That door… It was blasted off of its hinges. It should've crushed us. How – how did it not? Did I do that?"

He swallowed hard, a smirk tugging at one corner of his lips.

"I'm afraid not."

Felicity gaped at him.

"Arti? Are you saying that Arti stopped that door from landing on us?"

The door to her room opened and their friend appeared with Artemis in his arms.

"Someone was very insistent that her mommy was awake," he said, a small grin on his face as he carried their daughter to her, "Color me surprised. How'd she know?"

Felicity couldn't answer. The words were stuck in her throat along with the sudden flood of tears that wanted to escape. As soon as John set Arti on the bed, Felicity had an armful of trembling toddler.

"Momma!"

She smoothed the hair back from her baby's face and pressed a kiss to the faint scratch on her cheek.

"Momma's okay, sweet girl."

Arti's head fell to her shoulder and she stuck her thumb in her mouth. Her arm went around Felicity's neck and she held on tight.

"What's happening, Oliver? Why would they break into our home? What were they after?"

He hesitated, his eyes skating over their daughter where she was wrapped around her. She didn't need to hear him reply to know what he was thinking. They'd been hunting for Artemis. She had been their target. Because she was theirs or because she was more than just Nephilim, Felicity couldn't be sure. There was no way for any of them to know.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

Oliver shrugged.

"I don't know."

"But we're sure that Amanda is dead? I mean, I watched John lop her head off, for God's sake. She couldn't have survived that, right? Even if she was a demon."

She cast a weary glance between John and her husband. The look that they exchanged over her head spoke volumes.

"Oh god."

John's heavy hand fell onto her shoulder.

"There's no way to know for sure that Waller survived, Felicity," he told her, "At least not until she shows her face. But based on how the attack went down, I'd bet that she's behind this. And that Malcolm had his hand in it somehow."

She shook her head and pulled Arti closer. It took a huge effort on her part to suppress the shudder that wanted to overwhelm her.

It had been hard enough to swallow that she and Oliver were the ones that the League had targeted. As a mother, to know that it was her daughter that they wanted now… it terrified her. She knew that Oliver had them surrounded by people that they could trust, people who would protect them to the ends of the earth. But Felicity needed to know that there was something that she could do. She needed to know that, should it come down to it, she could protect her daughter in the face of any threat.

"I need you to train me again, Oliver. I want to know that Artemis is safe with me."

There was a moment where she thought that he would refuse. He'd been reluctant in the few times prior to Arti's arrival that he'd trained her. He'd always insisted that there was no need. That he would always be there to protect her. But as the war between their family and the League forged on, Felicity knew that that wouldn't always be the case.

"Okay. As soon as you're feeling up to it."

She drew Arti closer, pressing her face into her soft curls.

"Okay. Soon."


	30. Chapter Twenty Four

**A/N:** So I'm really hoping that the fact that I was able to finish this chapter is a sign that I'm back on track with this fic and that I'll be able to stick to the original timeline. Thank you all for your support and your encouragement to keep going! I'm not planning on giving up on this one any time soon. And a huge thanks to my beta westernbeauty! You're amazing and you know it!

 **Mark of the Angel**

 **The Ninth Year**

Snow blanketed the yard around them. It continued to fall, tiny tufts sticking in her hair and clinging to her eyelashes. She shuffled from foot to foot to keep her blood circulating. It was freezing. Her breath clouded as it burst past her lips. Her heart was racing, anticipation making her jittery, and it was all she could do not to dart into the line of thick pine trees for cover.

"Come on, Oliver," she mumbled, "I know you're here, just –"

A heavy arm snuck around her shoulders, jerking her off of her feet, and Felicity clamped her teeth onto her lower lip to keep from screaming.

She fought against his hold even as he flung her around as if she weighed nothing. The heel of her boot connected with Oliver's knee and he grunted in pain. She aimed another kick a little higher, know full well that a swift kick to the groin could incapacitate any man, even an angel. But her husband swung her around again at the last minute and she missed her mark entirely. He tossed her to the ground effortlessly. The action stole the air from her lungs.

Oliver clutched his _cosaint_ in one hand, his other was fisted at his side.

"Get up."

The growl in his voice was meant to intimidate her, she knew, and if she hadn't been so intimately familiar with the warrior in front of her, it might have. Instead, Felicity repressed a shudder as a hot spike of arousal shot through her. Damn, her husband was hot.

She shook the thought from her head.

"I said get up!"

His voice bellowed, echoing through the dense trees that surrounded their home. Instead of the fear that she knew he meant to incite, the need to protect – both herself and her home – overtook her.

Felicity thrust out her hand, her palm face up, her fingers stiff and straight. Her eyes focused not on Oliver, but on the weapon that he wielded.

Bás lit up. The soft glow that it always emanated pulsed brighter and brighter. It vibrated in his grasp and Felicity saw the way his fingers flexed around it. She concentrated hard, focused all of her energy on calling out to Bás. And she allowed herself to get distracted.

Another arm, not as steely as Oliver's, slithered around her waist. Tommy yanked her up off of her knees and twisted her around until she was on her stomach, her face in the snow. He dropped his weight on top of her.

"No," she ground out, "No! Get off of me!"

She kicked her legs and threw her arms back, anything she could to shake him where he'd pinned her. Her right elbow collided with his jaw hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. She repeated the motion, the second blast causing another stab of pain to thrum along the length of her arm. She heard Tommy's muffled curse as her own ears rang and he rolled away, her ability to breathe coming back to her the moment she was free of him. Felicity stumbled to her feet, her eyes moving back and forth between her husband and her brother-in-law. There was no time. She knew she had no time. If she didn't do something, one of them would be on her before she could even take a step.

She thrust out her hand again just as Tommy came barreling toward her.

Bás was ripped from Oliver's hand, flying through the air as if he'd thrown it, and Felicity caught it with ease. She met Tommy's tackle head on, shoving the _cosaint_ into his ribcage just as its energy exploded.

It took him off of his feet, knocking him backward nearly thirty feet. He landed in the heavy snow and fell still.

Felicity glanced at Oliver.

"Is he okay?"

Tommy wasn't moving.

He shrugged, "He's survived worse. He'll be fine."

She dropped her guard, Bás hanging limply in her gloved hand, and Oliver moved to stand beside her. He took his _cosaint_ from her, examining it briefly before tucking it into his jacket. He set his hands on her shoulders and gazed down at her. His eyes were critical as they looked her over.

"How do you feel? Are you alright?"

She nodded, "Of course, Oliver, I'm fine. I mean, I'm freezing and my fingers are tingling a little more than they probably should be but other than that, I'm good."

He touched her cheek, his fingers ghosting over the place where she'd been pressed into the snow, and she flinched. Oliver scowled, casting a glare at his brother.

Felicity tugged at his sleeve.

"Hey, really, I'm fine."

He sighed, drawing her into his arms, and Felicity tucked herself beneath his chin.

"Your elbow?"

"Could use some ice but I'll recover."

Tommy's groan reached them and Felicity glanced at him where he was struggling to sit up. She couldn't help the giggle that escaped her at the sight that he made as he fumbled around in the snow.

The disbelief that Felicity felt at knowing that she was able to brandish Bás was overwhelming. She had seen the evidence of it with her own eyes. She had been able to control a weapon that was such an integral part of her husband's being. It left her feeling dizzy.

"You pack a hell of a punch with that thing, sis," Tommy announced.

He shuffled over to them, stuffing his hands into his pockets. His hair was disheveled, his cheeks pink from the cold.

Felicity shivered, a blast of icy air sending flakes flying, and burrowed further into Oliver's arms. She could feel him glowering at his brother over her head. She pinched his side.

"Let's go in," she suggested, "I could use some coffee. And maybe an aspirin or two."

As they stepped into the warm house, Felicity immediately cast her eyes around the room in search of her daughter.

Arti was laid out on the floor in front of the fireplace. Her long, honeyed curls were tied back in a messy brain and she kicked her sock-clad feet as she scribbled in her coloring book. Sin sat beside her, smiling at whatever the toddler was saying.

Oliver squeezed her fingers and Felicity looked up to find him watching Artemis as well.

"I should get moving."

Her attention was torn from her daughter as Tommy closed the patio doors behind him. He shook snow from his hair.

"Are you sure? Oliver made chili for dinner."

He gave her a quick hug, pecking her cheek.

"Thanks but I've got somewhere to be."

She lifted a quizzical eyebrow at that and Tommy smirked.

"Get your head out of the gutter, 'Lis. It's not that kind of somewhere."

Felicity shook her head. In all of the time that she'd known Tommy and Oliver, she'd never heard her brother-in-law mention his personal life. Oliver had told her that he'd been in love once, a long time ago, but he had never let himself get close to anyone since. Like John, Felicity worried that he must be incredibly lonely. And even though it killed her to think about it, she hoped that Oliver wouldn't be alone if something ever happened to her.

"Momma!"

Felicity started, turning just in time to catch the rambunctious three year old who seemed convinced that she could fly.

"Oof! Well hello sweet girl!"

She attacked her daughter with kisses, eliciting squeals and giggles as she squirmed to get away.

"I'm off, too."

Felicity set Artemis on the kitchen counter, keeping one arm securely around her, and faced Sin.

"You sure? You're welcome to stay for dinner, too."

The young angel shook her head, stepping forward to ruffle Arti's hair.

"Thanks, but I've got plans with Thea."

Artemis' face lit up at the mention of her aunt's name. They hadn't seen Thea in over a month and Felicity wondered if there was something that she should know. But the distance between them hadn't been like it was before. They talked about the site on a regular basis, exchanging texts and emails and phone calls when a flood of new Marks came in. It wasn't as if Thea had disappeared off the face of the earth again. She was simply keeping her distance.

"Oh, well, have a good night then. And thank you for keeping an eye on Arti. She loves spending time with you."

Felicity hugged Sin and stayed in the kitchen as Oliver walked both her and his brother to the door. When he returned a few moments later, he lifted Artemis into his arms and hugged her close.

"Hi daddy."

She patted the two days' worth of growth that dusted his cheeks.

He chuckled and rubbed his nose against hers.

"Hi baby girl."

Felicity tugged gently on the end of Arti's braid.

"Are you hungry, sweets? Daddy made us dinner," she said, moving around the pair to step into the kitchen.

She pulled bowls from the cabinet and spoons from the drawer before retrieving sour cream and the freshly shredded bag of cheddar from the refrigerator. She prepped a bowl for each of them, making Arti's first and adding a healthy dollop of sour cream in the hopes of cooling off the still-simmering food. By the time she made it to the table, Oliver had Arti strapped into her booster seat and she was pounding out an unappealing rhythm on the tabletop.

A glass of red wine sat in front of Felicity's designated seat. She smiled at her husband.

They sat together, Oliver beside Artemis and Felicity across from them, and for what felt like the millionth time, Felicity sent up a small prayer to whoever had chosen to bless her with her family.

* * *

Oliver returned to the living room with his sweatshirt halfway over his head.

"Is she down?" Felicity asked.

He sighed, dropping heavily onto the sofa beside her and tossing the sweatshirt somewhere that it wouldn't be found until the next morning.

"She is. Finally. She was pretty wound up. I had to read her three books before she dropped off."

Felicity shook her head and curled herself into his side. His arm fell across her shoulders. She had added another log to the fire while he'd read Arti her bedtime story. Darkness had enveloped the house hours earlier, the sun slipping behind the mountains before they'd even finished dinner, and she couldn't help but love the quiet moments that they had together. Yoda was stretched out across the back of the sofa, his purr filling the otherwise quiet living room.

"Oliver?"

"Hmm?"

"What happened to her? To the woman that Tommy was in love with?"

He glanced down at her, frowning.

"Laurel?" he asked, "She died. Why?"

She shrugged, "I guess… I just kind of worry about him. He has to be lonely."

She hadn't been able to stop thinking about it since they'd said goodbye. It was true that she worried about Tommy. She wished that everyone in their family could be as happy as she and Oliver were. She wished that John and Tommy and Thea and Sin could find someone who made their lives as whole as Oliver made hers. But seeing how Tommy and John had chosen to live their lives after losing the women that they loved, it made her heart ache because she was certain that her husband would choose the same path should he lose her.

"Her name was Laurel. She was Sara's sister."

"She was an angel?"

Oliver shook his head, "No. No, Sara died when she was three. She drowned while her family was on vacation. But she had an older sister. Sara wasn't allowed to get close to Laurel. They were worried that she would see her, that Laurel would somehow recognize that Sara was her sister even though they hadn't seen one another since they were very young. So she roped Tommy in to watching over her."

"Oh."

"By the time Sara was old enough to demand that anyone do anything for her, Laurel was already in college. He … he fell for her pretty hard. I thought that that was it. That I'd lose him. That he would choose to be with Laurel and that he'd give up everything else."

She readjusted her position quickly, sitting with both legs tucked beneath her as she stared at him.

"Are you saying that that's possible? That you – that you have a choice? You can give up being an angel?"

He shook his head again.

"No, love. There's no choice. Not for me. And Tommy would've broken a lot of rules had he chosen Laurel over his duties. Not all angels are caomhnóir. There are others and those who are not caomhnóir are able to choose. But a guardian can't choose to be anything else. If Tommy had tried to leave… I don't know what they would've done to him," he explained.

"So what happened? To Laurel, I mean."

"They had this… sort of whirlwind romance, I guess. They'd only known each other for two months and Tommy was talking about marriage and a family. But one afternoon we got a call. There'd been an earthquake in the city where she lived. She was trapped in her office when the building collapsed. That's where Tommy and I found her. She died in his arms."

Felicity blinked to clear the tears that threatened to fall. She couldn't imagine what that moment had been like for Tommy.

"How awful. Poor Tommy. Oh gosh, and Sara. She didn't even get to know her sister and she lost her."

Oliver nodded and pulled her even closer. Felicity climbed into his lap.

"And Tommy has never wanted to move on?" she asked, "He's never found anyone else?"

He nuzzled his face into her shoulder, running his nose along her collarbone where it peaked out from the neckline of her sweater. His breath was warm on her skin.

"Tommy would rather be alone that taint his memory of Laurel. He doesn't want to give her up," Oliver explained, "And if you think that I could ever move on from you, you're crazy. I know what you're getting at, love, and it'll never happen. You are my whole world. You and Arti."

She sighed, slipping her fingers into the short hairs at the back of his head.

"I wouldn't want you to be alone, Oliver."

"I wouldn't be. I would have John and Tommy, even Thea and Sin. And Arti. If – and that's a big if – something does happen to you, I will spend the rest of my time in this world alone. And I'll meet you in the next."

She tugged on his hair, urging him to tip his head back and meet her eyes.

"So there is something after this? I mean, even for you. You're an angel. You grew up … where? Heaven? Is it real?"

He shrugged, "It's not that easy to explain. But yes, there is something after this. For all of us. Sara... She's with her sister now. And someday Tommy will be with Laurel, too."

She considered his words. John had lost Lyla but he knew that he would be with her again in the end. The same was true for Tommy and Laurel. Maybe her friend and her brother weren't really lonely. Maybe they were just really patient.

"I feel the same way, you know. If anything happened to you, if… if I lost you, I could never move on with someone else. You're not just my mark or my husband. You're my everything. My always," she confessed.

And then she kissed him.


	31. Chapter Twenty Five

**A/N:** It's Tuesday and apparently I am back on track! Fair warning, this chapter starts off with a heavy dose of smut. Totally NSFW! Quick thank you to everyone who is sticking with me! I have no clue how many chapters are left in this one but we're quickly catching up to the **present day**. And to my beta westerbeauty thank you thank you thank you!

 **Mark of the Angel**

"Ol-Oliver, oh god, don't stop. Please."

She bit her lip to stifle her moans, her head thrashing around on her pillow. His lips left a trail of fire as they moved across her skin. His tongue delved into her wet sex, finding her clit with ease, and her hips bucked up off of the bed. She dug her fingers into his scalp.

"Oh, oh! More! Harder!"

He pressed the flat of his tongue against her clit at the same moment that he thrust two fingers into her wet heat. She cried out, her body trembling. It was like lightening, like an electrical storm that came alive inside of her. It raced along her nerves, sending a riot of sensations from the top of her head to the very tips of her toes. Her breath caught in her throat. Her knees clamped tight to Oliver's torso where he was lying between her legs. When his ministrations became too much, the pleasure turning into a sharp pain, she tugged on his hair.

He sucked at the soft flesh on the inside of her right thigh before moving up the length of her body.

"You're going to wake your daughter," he teased, pressing open-mouthed kisses along her jaw.

Felicity rolled her eyes, "And it'll be your fault."

She tasted herself on his tongue when he kissed her and a fresh wave of desire swooped low in her belly. She nibbled on his lower lip.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Okay is not a strong enough descriptor for how I'm feeling," she murmured, "Blissed out may be a little better."

Oliver chuckled, his hips rolling against hers playfully. Her legs fell open just a tiny bit further. She shifted, feeling his erection hot and hard against her thigh. She'd only needed a moment to catch her breath.

"Ready to try for that baby brother or sister that Artemis keeps begging for?"

His teeth found her nipple, rolling the stiff peak gently, tugging until it was hard and tender. Felicity whimpered and lifted her hips, rubbing her sex against his rigid abdomen, desperately seeking friction.

"Ooh, yes, yes please. Let's try now," she breathed.

He obliged her. Shifting just enough to thrust hard and deep and pulling a startled gasp from her throat. He stilled, allowing her time to adjust to the intrusion, and groaned where he hovered above her. She leaned up and pressed her lips to his throat.

"I love you," she whispered.

"Love you, too, baby."

When he finally moved, Felicity sighed happily. She scratched lightly at the back of his neck, her fingers trailing aimlessly across his broad shoulders and down his chest. She paid special attention to his nipples, dragging her blunt nails across the pebbled peaks repeatedly and she was graciously rewarded when his hips stuttered. The movement sent his hard cock plunging into her warmth and Felicity mewled, throwing her head back as she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts. She wrapped her legs around him, digging her heels into the backs of his thighs.

Oliver dropped his head to her shoulder. His beard abraded her skin as he kissed across her collarbone. He bit down on the tendon at the curve of her neck, the bite not hard enough to break the skin but just enough so to send a dull ache rushing through her. It collided fiercely with the pleasure that his movements fueled in her core and left her body buzzing. She grabbed a fistful of his hair and held him to her. He bathed her abused flesh with his tongue, his hips continuing to rock into her at a slow, lazy pace. He didn't seem interested in rushing and she certainly wasn't going to hurry him along.

She hummed contentedly, the slow build of her second orgasm rolling through her like a wave. It didn't crest, didn't reach its peak, but she felt the pressure slowly rising. She loosened her grip on her husband's hair and massaged his scalp. He nipped her again.

"I have my own, very selfish, reasons for wanting you to get pregnant again."

He lifted his head and grinned down at her.

"Mm, re – really?"

The words stuck in her throat, the aftermath of a particularly powerful thrust, and she moaned helplessly.

"C – Care to share, Mr. Queen?"

He shook his head and kissed the corner of her mouth.

"You'll be repulsed."

She smirked at his abhorrent expression. He was teasing her, she knew. She was happy to play along.

"Repulsed? Really? Certainly not. You must tell me."

Oliver nuzzled his nose along the apple of her cheek as he made his way to her ear. She gasped when his rhythm changed, his next thrust hitting a delightfully sensitive spot, and she squeezed his hips between her thighs.

"I love your body when you're pregnant. The roundness of your belly, the fullness of your breasts. I love knowing that I did that to you. That the baby that you're carrying is mine. _Ours._ "

His voice was a rough whisper, full of longing. She shivered.

"And after … after you've brought our child into the world, I want you more than ever. I want to feel the way that your body has changed. I love how it responds to me. When I wrap my lips around your swollen nipples and –"

"Please," she gasped, "Oliver, please."

His mouth moved slowly from her ear to her neck and down her chest until he could take her nipple into his mouth. He sucked hard on the peak and she bucked. He held her to him with one arm snaked beneath her back, gripping her shoulder. He pulled his hips back, sliding out of her almost to the tip, before plunging deep and wrenching a wanton cry from her throat.

"Yes! More, I – I need…"

"What, love? Tell me. What do you need?"

"You, Oliver. Love me."

He rocked against her, changing his pace and angling his hips in just the right way. Every thrust was sharper, deeper, his pubic bone grinding against her clit with just the right amount of pressure. It didn't take long for her to fall headlong over the edge. She keened loudly, clinging to him, and met him thrust for thrust.

"Oh… oh god, Oliver," she moaned, "Come, baby, please. Please."

She felt it the moment his orgasm hit, felt it in the way he tensed above her, in the way he shuddered. He let his weight fall onto her, barely keeping himself from smothering her, and she reveled in it.

But he pulled away too soon, withdrawing from her and rolling onto his back.

Felicity curled into him, her head on his shoulder, and absorbed his body heat. He pulled the comforter up and over them, drawing her closer. She yawned.

"Go back to sleep, love."

"Hmm? Oh, no, I'm okay. But I think we should just stay here until Arti wakes up. Gives us about an hour."

Oliver's lips were warm against her temple.

"Think it worked?" he asked.

She laughed, "Do you?"

He shrugged.

"Maybe. I'll be able to tell in a day or two."

She sighed. Her hand was splayed across his ribs and she trailed her fingers along the dips and ridges. She'd commandeered his t-shirt from where it had landed on her nightstand, slipping it on and snuggling into the soft cotton. It smelled like him, like home.

"Are we really ready for another baby?" she asked.

It was his turn to laugh.

"I think it's a little late for that, love."

"True. But I guess we haven't really talked about it," she pointed out, "We just… I don't know, _decided._ Like having another baby isn't a huge deal. Like it won't change everything."

Oliver sighed.

"You're right. It is a big deal and a big decision. But this, our family, is everything to me, Felicity. I want us to have more children. I want our family to grow. And to keep growing until we've reached our limit."

She worried her bottom lip between her teeth and propped her chin on his shoulder, looking up at him.

"Our limit?"

He shrugged, "Yeah. Five, maybe six kids."

Felicity snorted, "Dream on, mister."

He pinched her hip.

"Would you agree to two or three?"

"Possibly. Let's see if we were even successful at making number two happen before we start talking about a third, okay?"

They lay in the silence of their bedroom for a long while. Early morning sunlight filtered through the windows, glinting off of the frosty glass. Felicity could see heavy flakes drifting through the air.

"We'll need to add on to the house again," she mused, "We'll need a new nursery. And it may be time to start thinking about relocating Arti's room. She's a little too close to us and she's kind of living in our closet."

Oliver tensed, the arm that he had wrapped around her tightening slightly.

"Are we sure that's a good idea? Moving her? What if something else happens? What if there's another attack?"

She ran her hand slowly down the length of his arm, reaching for his hand.

"She's almost four, Oliver. She'll still have her baby monitor," she assured him, "Besides, if this plan of yours and Tommy's works, we won't have anything to worry about. There won't be any more threats, no more attacks. We'll be safe."

It had been in the works for nearly a year. They had eyes and ears inside the League in the form of Nyssa al Ghul and they were simply waiting. Waiting for Malcolm to make a mistake. Waiting for him to get caught with Ras again in a place where they could both be ambushed. And they had a team in place. Tommy and John and Sin and Tatsu, along with the fallen angels that Nyssa had been able to align to their cause. But they were still in limbo as they waited for the perfect moment to strike.

He relaxed.

"It'll be a nice change of pace."

"What's that?"

"Being safe."

Felicity sighed, her eyes slipping closed, and clutched him tighter.

"Yeah, yeah it will be."

* * *

"Momma?"

Felicity spun her chair around and smiled at her daughter. Arti was on the floor in front of the fireplace. She had two stuffed animals in her hands and Yoda was batting at them as she made them dance across the floor.

"Yeah baby?"

"When will my sister be here?" she asked.

Felicity sighed, "Sweetheart, we've talked about this. Mommy and Daddy know that you want a brother or a sister but we don't know when that's going to happen."

Arti frowned, her bottom lip sticking out in a prominent pout. Her animals stopped dancing, the monkey falling to the wayside, and Yoda pounced. She clutched the little pig to her chest.

"But I want to meet her."

"Meet who, honey?"

"Aria."

Felicity's fingers stilled on her keyboard.

"Aria? Who's Aria?"

Her three-year old rolled her eyes, "My baby sister, Mommy. You're so silly."

She stared at Artemis. The little girl had already gone back to her toys, trying to wrestle her stuffed monkey from the cat, and chasing after him when he darted out of the room.

The back door opened and closed quickly, letting in a short burst of frigid air as Oliver came inside. She heard him kick off his boots a few moments before he padded in from the dining room. He stacked the wood he'd brought in beside the fireplace and added an extra log to the fire.

"Felicity?"

She blinked up at him, her glasses sliding along the bridge of her nose. He was standing right in front of her.

"What's wrong? Where's Artemis?"

"Huh? Oh, she's fine. She's in the bedroom playing with Yoda."

Relief passed over his face, softening his features. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it on the back of her chair before pulling her to her feet.

"Then what is it? You looked like you were a million miles away."

He led her to the sofa and sat, pulling her down beside him and propping his feet up on the coffee table. Her head fell to his shoulder. He draped one arm along the back of the couch.

"What do you think of the name Aria?"

The hand that had been playing with the loose strands of her hair froze.

" _An expressive melody,"_ he murmured, "It's beautiful. Why?"

She shrugged, "Artemis seems pretty convinced that she's going to have a baby sister named Aria."

Felicity felt his eyes on her as she stared off down the hallway. She could hear Arti talking to Yoda from their bedroom.

"But she insists on calling the cat Roy … who knows where she got that from. I mean, we don't really let her watch television so I've got no clue where she comes up with this stuff."

Oliver is silent beside her. Felicity knew that it was weird. Clearly their daughter was capable of some things that normal little girls were not. She'd created a literal shield to protect Felicity and herself when they'd been in danger. She could sense both of her parents when they were nearby. She seemed to share dreams with her father. Hell, she'd been able to communicate with Oliver before she'd learned her first word. Was it possible that this was another ability that she possessed? Was she really able to see into the future somehow?

Arti came running back into the living room, Yoda hot on her heels, and plowed headlong into the sofa beside Felicity. She hoisted herself up and scrambled across her mother to stand in her father's lap.

"Daddy! Guess what?"

She bounced excitedly with her hands on his shoulders, her little face just an inch from his. Oliver grinned at her, grabbing her about the waist to keep her from tumbling over backwards in her excitement.

"What is it, pretty girl?"

"Momma is going to bring me a sister!"

Oliver blanched, his eyes flicking to Felicity's.

"Yeah? How do you know that?"

Arti shrugged, "Cause I talks to her."

"Talked," Felicity correctly gently, "You talked to her, sweetie."

She couldn't believe what she was saying. Her three year old had just told them that she'd talked to her unborn – and not-yet-conceived – baby sister.

"When did you talk to her?" Oliver asked.

"'smorning. I talked to her in Momma's tummy."

Felicity took a stuttering breath. She'd woken that morning burrowed beneath the covers with Artemis wrapped around her like a vine. Her face had been smooshed against her abdomen and she'd been whispering nonsense into her bellybutton. When Felicity had asked what she was doing, Arti had just laughed and asked if she could have pancakes for breakfast.

"Oliver…"

He sighed, sitting Arti in his lap and drawing Felicity closer with his arm around her shoulders.

"She's not wrong," he said gently, "You're pregnant."

She sighed heavily.

"It's been like two days!"

Oliver pressed a kiss to the side of her head, "I'm well aware."

She flushed at that, swatting at his arm. They'd started trying only two mornings before but they'd 'tried' multiple times already. In truth, she was happy to know that one of those times had stuck because she was exhausted. Having a toddler and a very determined husband had worn her out. She could use an excuse to rest.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She nodded, crossing her arms over her belly.

"Aside from being slightly overwhelmed by the fact that our daughter knew I was pregnant before I did and that she is certain we're having another girl… yeah, I'm okay."

Artemis moved from Oliver's lap to hers, laying her hands on top of Felicity's.

"How many sleeps 'til Aria is here?" she asked.

Felicity snorted, "Too many too count baby girl."

Her face fell, that bottom lip sticking out again, and Oliver ruffled her hair. He stood and pulled her with him.

"It's bath time, baby."

He swung Arti around to his back and she squealed, her arms winding around his neck as she clung to him like a monkey. Felicity watched them head down the hallway, Oliver bouncing Arti along as he went. Their voices drifted through the house, their words distorted. She glanced down at her stomach. Baby number two was brewing, a girl if Arti was to be trusted, and even though Felicity believed what she'd told Oliver a couple of days prior, even though she knew that they would be safe someday, a spark of fear ran through her. It settled over her and leaked into her bones.

She shoved it down and forced herself off of the couch, heading to the bathroom to join her family.


	32. Author's Note 3

**Author's Note:** Okay, so I really hate posting these but I've made a decision about Mark of the Angel that I wanted to share with you all. I'm NOT abandoning this fic, I promise. I am, however, going to take a break from posting. I want to really work on the end, on the last third of this story. I feel like I've been forcing myself to write these last few chapters and because of that, I feel like I've compromised the integrity of the story. What I'm hoping is that I will have some serious time to dig into the story and flush everything out and really make the ending of this worth all of the time you've all invested. I appreciate all of the wonderful words of encouragement that I've gotten since the very beginning of this. Again, I want to assure you that I am NOT, in any way, abandoning MotA. I will finish it and I will get back to posting once it's all done. I don't want to give you a timeline of when that's going to happen because I really don't know but I'm hoping that it's sooner rather than later. Thank you all for all of your support and for standing by me as I've trudged through this. We'll chat again soon!


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